


Singing In The shower

by Ardentwench (Kitschdemotic)



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dexter can be a little shit, Erica tries to be a nice ex wife, Larry sweats a lot, M/M, McPhee can be a good boss, ahk ships jedtavius, alludes to a non cis Nicky, lots of shower singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitschdemotic/pseuds/Ardentwench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the Night Program really is just comprised of Larry's tech inventions, interactive displays, and actors.</p><p>Larry Daley has finally managed to work his way up from being more than a night guard at the AMNH. His proposition of setting up an interactive Night Program has finally been accepted and he's excited to put his inventions to work, but as Head of the Night Program he also has to help keep the actors organized and make sure everything runs smoothly. </p><p>Between the awful heat still plaguing NY, working to keep his boss happy, the actors from killing each other, and discovering he has an unfairly attractive co worker with an equally attractive personality to match, Larry's pretty sure he's got his hands full. This doesn't stop him from also developing a crush on the mysterious voice worthy of belonging to a siren that has suddenly decided to start turning his habit of singing in the shower into instead singing duets in the shower by joining in from the neighboring bathroom adjacent to his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Natm 2015 Big Bang. This fic was inspired by the au prompt on tumblr where their apartments are adjacent, their bathrooms share a wall, and one ends up overhearing the other singing. I wasn't sure where I was going with this but I made it work.

 

Chapter 1

 

-

 

 

At a little after seven the alarm went off, a rush of lyrics hitting the rather quiet evening air in a loud burst. The song, although not particularly cheery, held enough bounce in it's beat that the sudden commotion of noise in his ear was more than startling for Larry.

Letting out a low groan into warm fabric he grimaces as his pillow dampens further, the material already moist from the drool of a deep sleep. The wetness on his lips and chin make him itch with the need to wash his face. Stretching a tired arm out he smacks repeatedly on the snooze button, cursing under his breath as it refuses to put a halt to the loud assault on his ear drums.

He tries to blink the blur from his eyes, his hand sliding from the top of the clock to thump back against his mattress in defeat, remembering he had forgone activating the snooze option to ensue he made it to work on time.

Pushing himself up onto his elbows and moving his face away from where it had been burrowed warmly into his pillow, he turns enough to take in the time and slowly began twisting himself out of his sheets. The light residue of half dried sweat clings to his skin, his night shirt clinging to his chest in the most uncomfortable way.

Pawing at his chest with one hand he flips the small switch on the alarm to turn it off, wincing as his fingers catch his chest hair as he pulls at the damp material in an attempt to circulate some air onto his skin. He lets go, dropping his hands into fists as he finishes kicking the sheets away from his legs to swing them free over the side of his bed, taking a calming moment to relish in the cool touch of the wooden floors against the bottom of his bare feet.

The central air is circulating, albeit poorly, through the mediocre apartment. The air feels stifling as he tries to blink the last lingering edges of sleep away. Taking in a deep breath he stands, the air escaping his lungs in a throaty sigh when he stretches, trying to expel any stiffness from his joints before tugging his shirt completely off and letting it drop unceremoniously on the floor somewhere to his left.

The temperature in the room feels awful as he pads his way to the hall, not bothering to pause in stride as he tugs on his underwear and not sparing them a second glance as he steps out of them and through his bedroom doorway. He turns right, only pausing in the short hall long enough to eye the temperature gauge and idly wonders when the weather will drop in temperature again, already done with the steadily rising heat and ready for the decline into winter to reclaim the city.

If the cool wood feels good on his skin, the cold tile of the bathroom feels even better as he goes about his morning routine. It isn't until he steps into the shower, the water a pleasant warmth across his shoulders, that he begins to feel more awake and less like a half cooked zombie on abandoned asphalt. He grabs at the single bottle on the small plastic shelf and frowns when he finds the generic 3in1 soap almost out, making a mental note to pick up more, or maybe something else of a bit better quality, before Nicky comes for his next visit. He rubs the gel through his hair, humming to himself as he lathers it into suds before adding what else he can salvage from the bottle into his palms and works at rubbing away the sweat from his pores.

The tune set as his alarm repeats in his mind like a karaoke screen, encouraging his humming into muttering which morphs into full words and recognizable lyrics, his soapy limbs moving in an awkward dance as he reaches for the toothpaste. Hips twitching to an imaginary beat, head nodding along, his voice rises in volume as he reaches the reaches the end of the first verse.

"And I I I I feel something so right by doing the wrong thing," Shoving the toothbrush into his mouth he continues around the obtrusion. "And I I I I feel something so wrong by doing the right thing."

He's in the middle of brushing his teeth, minty toothpaste foaming at his lips as he takes a breath between lyrics, when his words gain an unexpected echo and he almost chokes on a mouthful of toothbrush and spit. The line on his lips fumble short but the song continues on without him.

"I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie" The sudden echo continues the verse without him as he gags, coughing and wiping messily at his chin, and attempts to listen.

"Everything that kills me makes me feel alive." The voice stops there seemingly as suddenly as it started.

He braces himself against the tiled wall. Straining to hear the voice which had caught him off guard he peeks out of the shower, as if by some chance a man had sneaked in, but there's nothing out of the ordinary and all he can hear is the sound of the running water. Shaking his head he moves to rinse whatever soapy residue clings to him. Just as Larry starts to become concerned that he had imagined the second voice he hears it again, this time not as loud, and he can pinpoint it as coming from the wall behind him.

"Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep, dreaming about the things that we could be." There's a pause, and then the voice picks up again. "But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard. Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars."

Another pause, this one longer and Larry presses his body against the wall. The voice  is only slightly blurred by the thin walls of the apartment and the white noise of the running shower. Larry can make out the words, the fluctuations in tone, can hear the texture of the voice in a way that makes him wonder how it sounds when it's not singing.

He reaches out behind him blindly until he catches the faucet and twists it off, the water stuttering to a stop until the only noise left is the faint sound of the neighbors shower. He tries to remember who lives in the apartment next to him but nothing comes to him and he feels momentarily guilty for not attempting to be more sociable to the neighboring tenants.

"Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep. Dreaming about the things that we could be." The voice comes back just a hair louder, just as perfect, and once again stops too soon for Larry's liking. He wants to sigh in frustration at the interludes, wants to hear more. Biting his lip he swears he can hear a sigh from the other side of the wall as if the owner of the voice is also similarly frustrated, and he wonders if he's waiting similarly as well. The thought makes him curious, nervous. He closes his eyes, shifting his weight on his feet.

"But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard." Larry listens, clears his throat, takes a breath, and sings along.

"Said no more counting dollars, we'll be-we'll be counting stars" This time it's the other voice that stutters in surprise as he joins in out of nowhere, though it doesn't stop. If anything the mysterious vocals seem to gain volume, intensity, as their voices blend against each others.

"I feel your love and I feel it burn, down this river every turn. Hope is our four-letter word, make that money watch it burn."

Larry can feel a smile forming across his lips, a faceless blur of an image morphing from one possibility to another of what the guy on the other side of the wall looks like as he gets into the singing, no more pauses, no more hesitating as the words pour out flawlessly compared to Larry's slightly off tone.

"Old but, I'm not that old. Young, but I'm not that bold. And I don't think the world is sold. I'm just doing what we're told."

He wonders how smooth the others skin is. Is there stubble along his jaw? Smooth skin? Pale skin? Tan? Freckles? Wrinkles? He sounds young to Larry though, so likely not.

"And I I I I feel something so wrong by doing the right thing. I couldn't lie, couldn't lie, couldn't lie? Everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly."

The voice alone makes his stomach knot up and he almost misses joining in for the chorus, too busy internally frowning despite the smile on his mouth.

"Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep. Dreaming about the things that we could be. But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard. Said no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars."

It would do no good to get worked up about a stranger, especially when they're likely straight and even more likely somehow off limits, be it by their age or their availability. He's a year into his divorce, two years since him and Erica had officially separated, and he was so involved in his job that he didn't have time for much of a social life, hence how he didn't even know who lived next door despite having moved in months ago. Larry pulls away slightly from the wall, staring unseeingly at water droplets as he keeps singing.

"Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep. Dreaming about the things that we could be. But, baby I've been, I've been praying hard. Said no more counting dollars, we'll be-we'll be counting stars."

It's harder to stay on tune and not mess up when he gets a small chill, reminding him that he's standing naked only a few feet away from where the other guy is likely also just as bare. His throat feels dry and his imagination vivid.   

"Oh, take that money watch it burn. Sing in the river the lessons I learned. Take that money watch it burn. Sing in the river the lessons I learned. Take that money watch it burn. Sing in the river the lessons I learned. Take that money watch it burn. Sing in the river the lessons I learned."

He hates how his heart jumps when he hears a small laugh bubble out on the other side of the wall between the words. The sound mixes into the lyrics, clearly depicting joy in the other man’s singing and making Larry's legs weak.  He imagines a wide grin, a toothy smile, white teeth. He swallows hard and has to catch his breath.

"Everything that kills me makes me feel alive." The words are said slowly, smooth, silky, and deep on their own. They sound almost sultry and Larry struggles to find his ability to speak, his knees going surprisingly weak at the sentence. He supports himself better against the wall, his mind working quickly to regain the ability to join back in before the voice notices his lack of participation and stops.

He manages to get through the last chorus and finish the song, all the while telling himself he's overreacting. The voice isn't _that_ sensual sounding, the whole singing randomly through a shower wall together isn't _actually_ flirtatious, this mystery man probably isn't _that_ good looking, and it's _utterly ridiculous_ to develop a crush in under five minutes based solely on a voice.

A silence stretches out, made louder by the faint sound of the other shower being turned off. Larry shifts awkwardly, doesn't know what he expects to happen next, what the proper etiquette is after singing with a stranger through a shower wall. Does he try to talk to him, compliment him? Ask his name? Introduce himself? Carry on like nothing happened? Before he can try to make some sense of it he hears the short thrill of a ringtone followed by a couple muffled shuffling sounds and a quick hello before the familiar voice fades away deeper into the neighboring apartment.

When he blinks, as if snapping out of a daze, he feels moist, sweaty, confused, and oddly alone. Looking down he finds himself half hard and rolls his eyes at himself. Scoffing at himself he tries to calm his pulse, feeling pathetic. Maybe Erica had been right and he did need to put himself out there into the dating world more if he's reacting like this because of an interaction with a _voice_. He feels foolish as he twists the faucet once more, rinsing off in cool water before stepping out and toweling off. He moves in autopilot, fixing his hair, double checking the quality of his morning shave, moving to his closet and pulling on his clothes.

-

He tries not to think about the sound of the voice as he pours himself a cup of coffee and fixes himself a bagel for his evening "breakfast". The richness of the voice echoing through the showers, a fluctuating baritone, had carried over the ambient sound of falling water in a way that should of sounded more clumsy, more off kilter, and not nearly as attractive than it had.

He takes a bite and chews thoughtfully, wondering why he didn't feel more embarrassed. The other man's voice had been heavy with talent and quality, much better than his own half awake croaking must of sounded. The voice had made him flustered, snagging his attention like a siren's call. The thought makes him feel foolish but it's a distressingly accurate description. He tries to distract himself with his drink, the hot burn of the liquid down his throat only minutely successful in the task as his mind goes from the voice itself to the mystery owner attached to it.

He attempts to push back another rush of adrenaline as he imagines what sort of body, wet and soapy, might of been on the other side of the rather thin walls. He swallows, the last bite of his bagel going down harshly and looking forlornly at between his empty mug and empty coffee pot he wishes he hadn't drained his coffee so fast. A quick glance at the clock on the microwave has him cursing under his breath, running a hand over his hair and grabbing for his apartment key. Locking up in record time he practically sprints down the hall, wishing he'd made the decision to call for a cab in advance now that he was running late.

It's the first day of the Museum's new night exhibits, his own idea which had taken some heavy convincing to get McPhee to back him on, and he was going to be late. He wondered if McPhee would want him to change into his guard uniform once he arrived, or if the smart outfit he wore would be enough for his new manager-esque position. By the time he pushes open the front doors to his apartment building and heads to the street to flag down a cab he's a bit out of breath and can feel sweat reforming under his clothes. He's just thinking he really should've called for a cab earlier and debates calling now to see how close a driver happens to be now, and whether it'd be worth it to risk the wait for them to show up, when he spots a cab driving up to a stop, its back door swinging open.

Jogging closer to it, a hand out to flag it down, he frowns at seeing a younger man a few feet ahead of him rush to it as well, hovering over the door before the previous passengers have even began to exit. Larry slows down, his attention already starting to revert back to finding a new ride, fishing his cell out from his pocket. He's a few steps away and about to call directly for his own cab when a few words catch his attention. Looking back he see's the younger man tapping his foot impatiently, issuing his destination request to the cab driver through the open back door as if the backseat occupants weren't still slowly gathering their belongings together.

"Hey!" He calls out, stepping closer. "Hey, um, excuse me," he tries, hoping to catch the man's attention as he's climbing into the vacated seat.

"Excuse me!" He yells, reaching out to tap the man on the back in order to gain his attention.

Instead of making contact on the cotton of the man's shirt, he finds himself palming the jean fabric that curves over a shapely bottom. With the way the lithe form freezes at the invasive touch Larry is sure he's managed to earn the guys attention. He stares at his hand in shock as the mishap registers in his mind until the stranger turns his head to look at him, an eyebrow raised and indignant curiosity clearly displayed on his youthful face.  The look snaps him back into the burning embarrassment of the situation and he jerks his hand away, trying to find his voice. He flounders, not sure what to do with his hands, and shifts awkwardly on his feet as he attempts to stutter out an apology. The man's face turns less acidic and more amused, which makes Larry feel a little bit better as he watches him finish settling into the back of the cab.  

"Can I help you?" The man asks, both eyebrows arched as he mercifully cuts off Larry's apologetic mutterings, his tone laced with vague annoyance.

"Um, yeah, actually." Larry leans in closer, ducking his head level with the man’s and wringing his hands together. "I didn't mean to, but I overheard you say you were heading to the American Museum of Natural History?"

"Yes," The stranger looks weary, a hand pulling out a phone from his pocket and another reaching for the cab's inner door handle. "And I'm actually in a hurry..." His voice trails off and Larry tries to smile reassuringly, placing an insistent hand on the door before it can be tugged shut.

"Actually so am I." He breathes, his eyes flickering down to the time on his own phone.  "Uh, see, I'm actually heading there as well and was hoping I could share this cab rather than fight for my own?"

The man's lips twitch in a frown but he nods imperceptibly, his hand dropping from the door and his attention narrowing in on his phone even as he scoots over to make room.

"Thanks, I'll pay half the cost of course." He tries to sound friendly, and not creepy, but the man is typing furiously into his phone with a distracted intensity.

"Right."

The one curt word is all the response he's given so he sits back, deciding to forgo making any small talk. His fingers tap against his knees and he alternates his gaze between checking the time on his phone, praying they don't get stuck behind in traffic, and trying to be interested by the view out the window. The cab driver thankfully doesn't try to make conversation either and Larry spends the short ride focusing on his mental checklist. Arriving at the museum they find a large crowd already forming outside, eagerly awaiting entrance to the new interactive attractions. Tossing a few bills at the driver he wastes no time rushing off, managing to navigate his way to the doors and waving to Tilly who nods as he slips in.

Looking around him he eyes the hustle of activity moving about as people get into their places, checking their props and adjusting their costumes. He pushes past a crowd of civil war guys and nearly screams when he finds himself unexpectedly face to face with his boss whose pursed lips don't look very happy.

"Where have you been? We open the doors in less than twenty minutes and you still need to start up your fancy machines. These exhibits don't run on magic, you know."

Holding up his hands, in defense or defeat Larry's not even sure, he nods his head and tries to look appropriately sorry.

"I know, I know. Sorry, I-" He starts, before McPhee holds up a hand of his own to interrupt him.

"We don't have time for you to stutter through excuses, get a move on. You're not the only person I've got to spend time talking at. Now go on, all the real exhibits have been secured so twist your little knobs, push and pull your doodads, make the museum come to life. Impress me."

There's a small smile playing on McPhee's lips even as he crosses his arms and Larry nods again, a sigh of relief escaping him when McPhee finally turns, marching off towards the Egyptian Exhibit.

"Right. On it." He calls after him, already rushing off in the opposite direction to get to work.

It's when he's finally circled around to the Egyptian exhibit, relieved to see McPhee wasn't still lingering there, to work on the last of his opening preparations which consisted of bringing to life the large holographic versions of the jackal men outside the Pharaohs tomb, when he spots the familiar face. There's an excited chatter pleasantly floating about him as everyone counts down the final minutes until the doors open, and he hears a few appreciative calls as the realistic holograms appear to come to life.

"That's incredible." He hears as he's reaching down to scoop up his clipboard from beside the small box of control panels he'd been tinkering with.

Turning towards the voice it takes him a moment to place the face of the younger man to the one he'd shared the cab with but when he does he's not too surprised. The man seems less distracted and more genial now that he's not toying with his phone or in a rush, which by the way he's now dressed in colorful authentic looking Egyptian fabrics that swoop around him, Larry can put together the pieces that he must of also been worried about running late for his first day on the job.

"Uh, thanks, yeah. It is, isn't it?" He replies, looking up at the large illusions as they shift ever slightly. "They're even set up to respond to basic Ancient Egyptian commands, although they're a bit hard to pronounce clearly and correctly enough to be fully effective. I'm still trying to work it all out." He tries to sound humble, but he can't help the amount of pride that bleeds into his words.

Next to him the younger man looks impressed, staring up at the large mythical guards in clear awe. Larry is finally able to get a good look at him, take note of his height, his strong jawline, toned abdomen, clear skin, attractively long fingers, and was he even wearing anything under that thin skirt piece? The sudden imagery that floods his mind reminds him that not long ago he'd actually groped this man accidentally and the memory makes his palm itch. The cape trailing behind him isn't exactly flattering for his figure but Larry definitely knew the guy had a nice ass too.

Okay, Larry thinks as he swallows thickly, so he might definitely have to keep his thirst in check. First he's getting worked up over that mysterious voice, now he's rather blatantly ogling someone he's barely met who looks to be quite possibly barely legal and whose first impression of him was probably that of a molester. Looking away he runs a hand over his face, mouth feeling dry and face feeling warm, and considers maybe accepting one of Erica's offers to be set up on a blind date in hopes of letting off some tension.  

Opening his mouth, feeling the urge to find something more to say, he looks back up to find the man also turning to face him. The undecided words stick in his throat when he take's the reverent look directed onto him. He tries to make the words form but all he manages is to flop his lips around without the reward of sound. Fearing he looks like a fool he quickly gives up to instead clear his throat. The urge to glance away and the urge to do anything but stare battle as the man's lips slip into a wide smile and Larry feels like a teenager when the expression makes his knees turn weak.

He's taken by surprise at how gorgeous, how ethereal, the man looks with the soft lighting within the Egyptian exhibit illuminating the gold of his skin as much as the gold of his accessories. The brightness of the large round eyes directed at him seem even more potent with the thin layer of kohl lining them and the continued look of admiration they hold on him catches him off guard. He's uncomfortably aware of how self conscious he feels, heat starting to bloom up his neck. About to finally let his eyes drop to the floor, attempting to stave off a blush and not act completely flustered over such a small interaction, when the moment is broken in a much less subtle way by the startling sound of shouting into the desk microphone.

"One minute!" Tilly's brash voice bellows across the large room, followed by some antsy jittering of the workers shuffling into place and bossy encouragements from McPhee.

"Right, places, places. Larry come with me to the front for the grand opening." McPhee says, appearing beside Larry and guiding him fluidly away with a firm palm on his shoulder. Looking back he tries to manage a goodbye, a wave, something, to the practical stranger. He frowns when he doesn’t see him anymore and lets himself be dragged off.

The next few hours are full of people flooding in and out, a constant flow of visitors inspecting the changes and new entertainment. It's hectic and Larry finds himself flitting about the large museum, calming the nerves of the workers over their first performances, keeping up technical conversations with the more important guests, and helping Tilly keep stray children's grubby fingers off the priceless artifacts on display when he's not checking up on his inventions. The smoothness of the evening is a relief yet Larry doesn't have time to think about much else besides his work.

As the night ticks by and the crowds dim he's starting to feel confident in calling the first night a proper success, which is why he doesn't find it surprising in the least bit that something happens to go wrong the moment McPhee actually manages to find the words to compliment him.

He smells the smoke before he hears the yell of alarm from a small cluster of guests still hanging about. Fingers dig into his shoulder from where McPhee's hand had been clasping him cheerfully only moments before, his boss's words morphing into a startled scream as they catch sight of the flames. The fire is thankfully pretty small and he moves quick, with a short sprint he luckily manages to reach the controls to keep the smoke alarm and fire sprinklers from going off and making a bigger mess of the already panicking room. He's running back to the small panicked crowd, fire extinguisher in hand when he hears the collective gasp and watches one of the actors fall to the ground and start screaming as the hair of his fur loincloth catches fire.

As if in slow motion, the gaping crowd watches in horror as he attempts to push through them, watching the fire quickly traveling over the rest of the scanty costume, flames licking around the man's body even as he attempts to roll around. Larry's lips tighten, wondering if maybe he should've just let the sprinklers go off because of course it was his luck that someone would end up catching themselves alight from such a small, rather contained, fire. By the time he breaks through the shocked circle of bystanders and aims his fire extinguisher, a blur of tan and gold shoots across the scene to the neanderthal exhibit. Larry turns his attention to the open flames, dousing them out quickly and looking over to watch as the screaming man on the ground is wrapped securely in a gold cape, the flames smothered and patted out with a precise efficiency.

Almost as quickly as it’s happening it's all over and is replaced by a new commotion of worry for the man’s safety. Glancing around him, the extinguisher in his hands feeling heavy and himself somehow misplaced, it barely registers to him that paramedics are rushing in to access the man's injuries. Somewhere in the back of his mind he's relieved that someone had the clarity in their shocked gawking to call for help. He can hear Tilly ushering the last of the guests out the door, can even hear McPhee yelling about multiple things at once, but he's distracted by the gold cape laying covered in soot on the floor where the actor had been seconds before. Waiting until the paramedics finish carting the man out of the room he swoops in, picking up the singed fabric and palming it, reveling in how surprisingly soft and light it feels.

"Mr. Daley!" He starts at the call, feeling subdued, tired.

"Are you even listening to me? First you're late, then you give the neanderthal exhibit real fire to play with? What's next? Giving the Civil War exhibit real working guns?” McPhee questions, shifting his arms as if to hold an imaginary rifle he mimes firing the weapon.

“Pow, pow, pow!” Eyebrows raised and arms waving the invisible gun around he carries on, “Ohhh, it's only live ammunition, how dangerous can it be?” He laughs dryly, dropping his hands and glaring at Larry.

"Look, I didn't think they would manage to catch anything outside the contained area, let alone continue to stand close enough afterwards to catch themselves on fire, okay?" He meant to sound rational, apologetic but his words come out snippy and exhausted.

"Didn't think? What were you thinking? That your artistic genius needed human sacrifice to work? That you needed to risk millions of dollars worth of valuables?"

He can tell McPhee is on edge after the whole mess, feels similarly himself, tries not to get too upset back as the blame is layered onto him. Frowning he looks back at McPhee and listens to the continual verbal assault, hoping they're passed but keeping an ear out for the threat anyway. His fingers twist into the capes fabric and he tries to keep his mouth shut, knowing that arguing isn't going to help while McPhee’s so stressed out.

"-And is that the Pharaoh's cape? That is museum property, and shouldn't be used to put out fires like-"

Larry's attention snaps back, he can feel his mind catch up to McPhee's words and his fingers tighten a bit more on the material in his hands.

"What?" He asks.

McPhee doesn't seem to hear him, busy lost in his own rant.

"-I don't care how perfect for the role Ahkmenrah is, first he comes in late, then he ruins museum property, I should just fire him before he gives me more grief. I'd fire you, but the board was overly impressed at everything you've done and I dare say they might like you better then me at this point. You're lucky-"

McPhee is mostly talking to himself at this point, flipping through a packet of paper that Larry thinks he might of actually just pulled from thin air, and is starting to walk off towards his office. Taking a couple large steps Larry crosses in front of him, cutting off his path and forcing him to look up.

"Hold up, wait, go back a minute."

McPhee looks agitated, the lines on his forehead growing as he eye's Larry with an annoyed confusion.

"I said that you really managed to impress the board, they'd probably have my job if I tried to fire you over this little mishap." Distrustful apprehension is heavy on his words as he speaks and Larry barely restrains from rolling his eyes. He fists the fabric in one hand and waves his other hand in a motion meant to signify going back.

"No, before that. Why would you fire the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah reenactor? He wasn't that late, and he did a great job today, everybody loved him. And have you seen his face? He looks just like the speculated images of what scientists suspect Ahkmenrah looked like. You can't fire him." Larry's not sure why he feels so defensive over the man, but the thought of him getting fired when all he did was help when no one else was taking action seems extremely unfair and makes his palms sweat.

McPhee actually snorts, rolling his own eyes.

"Ahkmenrah? His ancestry actually is Egyptian, of course he looks perfect for the part. He even knows his history and is good at playing his role, You don't think I hired him for willy nilly reasons like eye candy do you? Don't be absurd, the man has a Masters in Ancient Egyptian studies. I can trust he knows his material."

Larry's lips, which had been pressed tightly together into a thin line slip apart, and he feels his mouth drop a little as his brow furrows. A master's degree, he thinks, how old is he to have already been so far in school? Or maybe just how smart, since he barely looks nineteen?

"Just because Ahkmenrah's supposedly a descendant of the actual Pharaoh Ahkmenrah doesn't mean he gets special benefits. If it was anyone else I'd contemplate firing them as well. No matter how overqualified he is for the job, I still have to take notes on his misdemeanors and can't ignore when he damages museum property."

"Uh, what? Wait, hold on. He's related to the actual Ahkmenrah? How old is he? No wait, I mean, if he's so qualified don't you think firing him would be a bit of a rash decision? Besides the robe, this robe," He holds it up between them in a clenched fist as if providing some sort of important evidence.

"It's not even a real artifact, it's just a replica. Plus, I’m sure it only needs dry cleaned, a little work done on it and it's back to being brand new. It was worth saving that guy from more severe burns. No one else was trying to help him and the fire was spreading-" McPhee holds up a hand, effectively shutting him up and he takes the pause to take in a much needed breath to regather himself.

As an afterthought, before McPhee can interrupt him, he adds one last question that had honestly been burning in him all day. "What's his real name?"

McPhee gives him a strange look and Larry wracks his brain, attempts to remember if there was some rule that reenactors couldn't be referred to by their real names off the clock or something else equally absurd.

"Did you breath in too much smoke? Are you okay, getting enough oxygen to your brain? Do I need to call the ambulance back to check you out?" Despite the dry humor in his voice, Larry actually thinks that maybe McPhee really is concerned for him.

"I'm fine. I'm just concerned, er, curious, confused is all." He says, the words stumbling out.

McPhee sighs at him, folding his arms and clutching the papers against his chest while managing to look down on Larry despite them being so close together in height. Lifting his head Larry tries to keep his own shoulders squared.

"His name? I thought you already knew each other."

Larry thinks back to the accidental grope, and to the moment they shared before the their jobs starting had interrupted them.  

"No, uh, not really." He mutters, shrugging a shoulder to distract from the warmth creeping back into his neck.

Raising an eyebrow McPhee momentarily drops a hand down to wag a slightly accusatory finger at him.

"But you two showed up to work about the same time, were chatting together before the doors opened. I assumed you two were already acquainted." The way he pauses and takes time to enunciate the final word makes Larry feel like squirming, not liking the suggestive dismay he might be imagining there.

"Well, you know what they say about assuming..." Larry mutters, letting his words trail off and trying to ignore the way McPhee's eyes narrow on him in warning.

Feeling like a disappointing student being stared down by the disapproving principal, he resists the urge to gulp. Readjusting his grip on the cape he looks down at the soft material, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

"Right, nevermind, forget that thought." He looks back up at his boss, straightening his spine and reminds himself that there's a mutual respect between them that he shouldn't forget exists and also shouldn't abuse.

McPhee seems satisfied with whatever he sees on Larry's face because he nods shortly and stops glaring.

"Well, first of all, his name really is Ahkmenrah." He pauses at the disbelieving look he gets and lifts his chin even higher, as if offended Larry would doubt him, scoffing in exasperation.

"I know, I didn't believe him at first when he applied for the part either, thought he was just some over enthusiastic art student really getting into the part." McPhee's chin drops back down a little and Larry relaxes a fraction more as well.

"Second of all, that may be a replica, but replicas of such high quality are not cheap. I expect someone other than me and the museum to pay for the damage if you think it can be so easily fixed. I'm going to have enough to worry about."McPhee bites out almost spitefully, but Larry only nods.

"And I never said I was going to fire him, I said I should, not that I would. So you can unbunch your panties now." His boss adds, bobbing his head around in a mocking manner and makes a little wave at him with his fingers, as if to hurry him up on the task.

Larry doesn't stop the eye roll he makes in response, his shoulders falling forward in a slump.

"Sorry, it's just that you tried to fire me on my very first day as night guard and barely gave me another chance after that, and I know you have a zero tolerance policy and I really feel firing him would of been a mistake."

McPhee looks at him curiously before shaking his head, obviously deciding not to say whatever he's thinking, and clears his throat before side stepping around Larry.

"I won't but if you care so much about his place here, maybe you should keep an eye on him because this is his first strike. Now if you excuse me, I have quite the bill of paperwork to fill out after tonight." McPhee says, voice lower, softer, than before as he retreats behind Larry.

****  
  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where the Night Program really is just comprised of Larry's tech inventions, interactive displays, and actors.
> 
> Larry Daley has finally managed to work his way up from being more than a night guard at the AMNH. His proposition of setting up an interactive Night Program has finally been accepted and he's excited to put his inventions to work, but as Head of the Night Program he also has to help keep the actors organized and make sure everything runs smoothly.
> 
> Between the awful heat still plaguing NY, working to keep his boss happy, the actors from killing each other, and discovering he has an unfairly attractive co worker with an equally attractive personality to match, Larry's pretty sure he's got his hands full. This though doesn't stop him from also developing a crush on the mysterious voice worthy of belonging to a siren that has suddenly decided to start turning his habit of singing in the shower into instead singing duets in the shower by joining in from the neighboring bathroom adjacent to his own.

 

Chapter 2

 

 

-

 

 

The night feels much later, or earlier rather, than it usually would at this time and he's tempted to go straight back home and crash, but he needs to wind down slowly, spend at least the next few hours awake before sleeping if he wants to keep his sleep schedule anywhere near regular. Walking over to the lobby's desk he throws a small smile at Tilly who's resting her feet and snacking on a small bag of candy. He sets the dirty robe on a shelf beneath the desk and nods at the small salute Tilly throws his way as he turns.

The lobby is silent, lights already dimmed and familiar shadows decorating the empty halls. It's a silence he's used to but it feels out of place following the night's excitement, to the point he kind of wants to talk out loud to himself, or shout, or scream, or anything other than listen to the echo of his own shoes slapping across the polished floor. Tilly already treats him like _he's_ the strange one, and his throat is a little dry, so he sucks on his bottom lip instead of caving into the noisy urges, thankful that the process of shutting down his programs and machines is even quicker then powering them up.

He finds himself staring up at the giant jackal guards, their towering forms moving restlessly as they draw their weapons on him as if ready to strike him down if needed. He pauses, giving them a thoughtful eye before bending over the controls and beginning his work. If it weren't for the fact they were his own creation he might actually be concerned that they could harm him, despite their not completely opaque appearance reassuring him otherwise.

A strangely empty feeling in his gut grows when he hits the last button and the holograms blink out of sight. Without their presence the room feels even emptier, the workers having all cleaned their stations and retreated quickly back home, safely away from McPhee's frustration in the tense wake of the accident.

Standing up from the controls he rubs a hand through his hair and over his face. Turning around to survey the vast emptiness of the area he laces his fingers together and stretches, arching his back until he hears the satisfying cracks of his spine popping. He tries not to be disappointed by the fact that Ahkmenrah isn't still there, the idea that he would be is irrational and the sensible part of his mind finds it ridiculous to be dwelling upon it at all. He feels absurd thinking so hard about his coworker and his train of thought switches it's track back to the mystery neighbor, which he honestly thinks may be just as fatuous and equally pathetic but he rolls with it regardless. Letting thoughts, memories of the shower experience, and even a stray fantasy wash over his mind he heads down the hall to continue his tasks.

It's not until he's lifting a hand that he finds himself facing the door to the security office and has to pause to stop himself before he actually enters. Tilting his head he purses his lips, eyebrows furrowed and wonders how he ended up there. Old habits, he presumes, and pulls his hand away from the door knob. Although the room is still welcome to him as his office, he doesn't really have a reason to enter and there's still things he needs to do before he can head home. Taking one step back and letting his hands drop down to his sides he decides to check on the talking Easter Island head.

Humming the tune of Counting Stars under his breath and keeping his steps hugging close to the wall, he hopes to avoid triggering the statues response sensor as he draws nearer. He doesn’t want the loud rumble of the Moai's deep voice mocking him with it’s limited artificial intelligence, he might feel lonely but the impure thoughts of wet bodies and slippery touches that are at the forefront of his mind are much preferred in the ways of company.oun

He almost thinks he's imagining the sound of water, too affected by his steamy shower daydreams, but when he hears a soft distant whistle fading in and out he freezes, straining his ears to hear it better, and makes out the trickle of liquid and the creak of the water fountain in the adjoining hall. His curiosity is piqued, and he feels at his hip where the weight of his flashlight would usually lay and frowns when he remembers he doesn't have it. The whistle floats back into his hearing and he'd be surprised if the low sound belonged to Tilly, who was probably still hanging about in her preferred area of the lobby. He doesn’t think it belongs to McPhee either as the man should still be in his office or already on his way home and would have no reason to be wandering this part of the museum.

Coming up to the corner he peers around it, hoping not to find a lost kid or delinquent teen while also doubting the presence of a thief. What he see’s isn’t any of those, and the words he had ready to use in calling out the individual die quickly as he attempts not to swallow his own tongue at the sight he’s presented with.

Hunched over the water fountain is an expanse of exposed golden skin and dark hair who Larry easily recognizes. The handsome lone figure doesn’t have on the wide decorative collar, tall crown, fancy jeweled accessories, or long egyptian kilt anymore, but he has changed back into the dark snugly fit jeans he’d been wearing when Larry had first encountered him.

The pants hung low on his hips revealing the slightest appearance of dimples on either side of his spine right above his waistline and Larry has to swallow hard when the body shifts, the new angle giving him a nice view of its front. Attempting to breath steadily, quietly, through his nose Larry takes in the view, the sculpted hip bones, the lightest trail of hair leading down the lower belly to disappear behind a zipper, a smooth abdomen, and small dark nipples hardened by the chill air circulating within the museum. He catalogues the sights away in his mind for further exploration at another time.

Ahkmenrah, the young man, possible genius, the guy Larry pretty much made a fool of himself defending, is standing half dressed in the quiet hall wiping the nape of his slender neck and wringing the water from a wad of paper towels out across his already damp shoulders. The muscles in his arms and back flex with each movement and Larry can feel the heat pool in his stomach as his blood picks up speed in his veins. Arousal is easily taking control over his bodily reactions and he presses a palm into the crotch of his own pants, pushing down what is becoming obvious evidence of his attraction.

He's usually much more professional, never getting carried away enough to actively pursue or fantasize about coworkers. It's always been rather easy to ignore what could turn into a problem, a bigger mess of awkwardness and tension. Even with Rebecca who he had found pretty and clever, her intelligence and passion appealing to him, it had been no problem placing her into a work related no go zone. Once he set her across the invisible line of off limits the temptation had swiftly dissipated and their friendship blossomed without the fuss of unnecessary feelings.

Yet here he was now having apparently gone long enough without the proper companionship and attention to his libido that he was palming himself indecently as he found himself unintentionally peeping on his young unsuspecting egyptian coworker.

It makes him feel irrationally guilty of his actions and he tugs his hand away, pressing his palms into the cold wall as he continues to peer around it. Even from his spot, a good distance of about ten feet away, he can make out the small drops of water individually gliding across the curve of smooth shoulder and down the spread of broad back. The shadows from the dim lighting within the hall make the damp skin take on a dull glisten and Larry has the urge to touch, to rub, to lick, at the moisture, the skin, the young man.

Ahkmenrah whistles again, a noise that barely leaves his mouth as he breathes, and drops his handful of soggy paper towels back under the water fountains small spout. After a few seconds the wad of soaked paper is brought back up to the man’s neck and for the first time Larry notices the dark smudges across his arms and torso. Soot from putting out the fire, he figures.

He watches a stray drop travel down the curve of spine as Ahkmenrah arches, stretching in an attempt to reach a streak of black below his shoulder blade. Licking at his lips, gnawing on them, Larry wills himself to get control over his pulse, over the tightening in his pants. The water drop glides lower, inching its way past the vague dimples and disappearing straight down the back of the jeans and Larry nearly whimpers. Tearing his eyes away he purses his lips, ducks his head back behind the wall and takes a moment to gather himself together, reprimanding himself for being so affected.

His tongue peeks back out and toys with his tender bottom lip as he thinks. Rubbing vigorously at his face he decides it's only right if he makes his presence known rather than continue to work himself up with the free peep show. Giving his arms a small shake to help gather his wits he looks down, checking to see how noticeable of a bulge his half erection may look.

Nodding to himself he takes a deep breath and looks back around the corner, meaning to reassure himself that he wasn't hallucinating Ahkmenrah standing there. Watching the man gently scrubbing at his skin he moves forward, ready to take the first step out into the open hall. With his foot raised mid step he nearly falls flat on his face when at the same moment Ahkmenrah twists, readjusting his position to reach a different stretch of skin, and their eyes meet.

The sudden eye contact is startling, catching him unaware and he feels exposed, vulnerable. By the look on Ahkmenrah's face and given the situation at hand Larry supposes that he has the right to, and very much does, feel quite similarly.

In his distraction his foot that had been in motion lands wrong, his weight shifting incorrectly between the step and the next, causing him to stumble. A minor obscenity escape's him as he tries to correct his footing, an embarrassed flush heating the base of his neck.

"Dum Dum!" The yell is instantaneous with his misstep and he cringes, scrambling back out of the statues sensors and consequently closer to the attractive man. Regaining a steady footing he wills himself to make eye contact with Ahkmenrah and tries not to look as guilty as he feels.

Looking over at him Larry can tell the man is confused and startled by his sudden presence.  Ahkmenrah’s arms press closer to his chest almost defensively as he eyes him and Larry fiddles with his belt loop out of habit, missing the sound of the keys that aren’t there. He feels bad about making the younger man uncomfortable, remembers the tightening in his pants only a moment ago and feels like the pervert that Ahkmenrah probably thinks he is.

They stand there watching each other over the five or six feet of distance between them, the moment stretching on as Larry tries thinking of a proper course of action to proceed with once someone’s caught you spying on them. Finally, Ahkmenrah tilts his head a fraction to the side, pinning impossibly large eyes on him, and Larry swallows hard. Already attempting not to let his eyes flicker back down the golden torso and wet plains of skin Larry has a hard time finding anywhere to look that isn’t inappropriately distracting. His eyes settle on the sharp jawline, following its distinctive shape until he see’s Ahkmenrah’s lips slowly part and he tenses instinctively, waiting for a verbal assault.

“Were you watching me?” The question is asked softer than expected, but has enough of the sharp edge that Larry was anticipating that he’s already regretting how this interaction will play out.

“Oh, um…” He breathes, licking his dry lips and trying to find something to say that won’t dig him in a deeper hole of being pegged for a creep then the one he’s already in.

Cursing his inability at making good first impressions, or any good follow up impressions after, he blinks and looks at the man as a whole. Assessing the body language he feels his heart drop when he realizes that the man holds a posture of wariness and an equally unnerved expression. Breathing in he shifts on his feet, pushes his hands awkwardly into his pockets and hopes he can convince Ahkmenrah that despite the grope in the cab and watching him from the shadows like a stalker he isn’t really the perverted weirdo he would appear to be.  

“I didn’t mean to,” He blurts out, continuing his train of thought. “I was just, I was finishing up my job" he motions towards the small nearly hidden set of controls for the Moai head, "and heard you, and I thought everyone had already left so, uh, I was investigating and- ” Ahkmenrah raises a hand, the one holding the soggy bundle of paper towels, and Larry stops talking.

He’s already berating himself on his lousy explanation when Ahkmenrah shifts, his body’s demeanor relaxing and becoming less stiff as he takes a couple steps towards him.

“It’s okay.” Ahkmenrah says, sounding sure of himself and already blasé about the topic, yet Larry still doesn’t look convinced that it _is in fact_ okay. Ahkmenrah seems to notice his hesitance to accept the easy write off of the incident and raises an eyebrow with obvious intrigue.

Larry watches the wide inquisitive eyes transform into a lidded gaze, Ahkmenrah's head tilting back in apparent amusement as a small puff of laughter escapes him. He's surprised when Ahkmenrah actually gives him a smile. It’s small, twisting one corner of his lips up farther than the other, a row of perfect white teeth peeking out between the pale pink lips, and it has Larry feeling fifteen again with the way the simple look makes his legs feel weak.

"It's okay." He repeats slowly, the emphasis in his words encouraging Larry to believe him.

With a nod Larry drags his eyes away from the lips and back up to meet Ahkmenrah's gaze before clearing his throat. Ahkmenrah continues to watch him.

"You're the owner of Daley Devices."

Despite being said as a statement, Larry notices Ahkmenrah's head crook to the left in a questioning manner while an eyebrow stays arched in interest as he waits for a response.

"Uh, yeah," he clears his throat again. "Yes, I'm Larry." He says, and almost as an afterthought adds "Daley."

"Larry Daley." Ahkmenrah says, the name rolling off his tongue. "Of Daley Devices."

His smile turns brighter, and Larry feels himself smiling back before he realizes he's doing it.

"Head of the night program and the former night guard." Ahkmenrah states with confidence, making Larry wonder what all the man has heard about him and from whom.

"Right. That's me."  

"It is a pleasure to meet you Larry Daley." He says, holding out a hand. Larry takes the few steps closer in order to accept it, thankful as their skin touches that he's not one for having horribly sweaty palms.

"And you're Ahkmenrah." He says when their hands part. The man's smile doesn't quite falter, though it does freeze for a calculating second and Larry tries to figure out if he'd said or done something wrong.

"Well, I know you're obviously not the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah but Dr. McPhee said your name was actually Ahkmenrah, unless I misunderstood him, if I did I'm sorry. I'm not trying to imply that you're nothing more than your character-"

"Mr. Daley." Ahk says, thankfully interrupting his ramble. The words sound unnecessarily formal and out of place.

"Larry. You can just call me Larry." He mutters, distracted by the way Ahkmenrah's eyes appear to be tracking his mouth.

"Larry." Ahkmenrah says in way of agreement. "You heard correct, my name is Ahkmenrah King. I may not be the actual pharaoh but I was named after him."

“That’s cool.” He gives a smile, nods, tries to convey his interest appropriately without coming across as condescending or sounding artificial.

Ahkmenrah nods with him, and Larry only feels a little like the man is humoring him. He wonders if he’s overstaying his welcome, considering he wasn’t even invited to be there as the man attempted to clean up to begin with. Despite the reassurance that Ahkmenrah didn’t mind that he’d been stumbled apon he still feels the awkwardness of the situation hit him.

“Right.” He glances at the control panel he came here for and claps his hands together. “I should probably get back to work.”

For an awkward second he doesn't make a move to step away, instead bouncing on his heels and hooking his thumbs into his pockets while watching Ahkmenrah toy with the mass of wet paper in his hands.

It isn't until the man starts back to work double checking the cleanliness of his torso that Larry snaps himself away before he starts staring. Heading over to the controls, thankful he'd had them installed far enough away from the giant head that it's booming voice doesn't flood the halls while he works at disabling it, he risks a few glances Ahkmenrah's way.

It only takes a few minutes before he's done but he doesn't move on right away, his attention repeatedly being drawn in by the other man.

“Am I in your way?" Ahkmenrah asks, not even bothering to look over at him. Larry stiffens, unaware that he'd been so obvious in his loitering.

"No." Larry is quick to reassure him.

Ahkmenrah wipes long strokes over his ribs and down along his hips above his waistband. Larry averts his eyes, blinking a few times to dispel interruptive and inappropriate thoughts that pop up.

"Making too much of a mess then?” He asks, gesturing to the small puddle and pile of discarded paper towels near his feet that Larry seemed to be focused on.

Shifting his weight onto his heels he looks back up and promptly back down again when he see's Ahkmenrah unbuttoning his jeans.

"Uh, no, you're fine. That fountain always leaks anyway. Nothing the morning janitor won't get when they're resetting the actual exhibits." He talks to the ground, afraid to glance up although he's desperately tempted. He's also tempted to ask what Ahkmenrah thinks he's doing but can't quite find the words.

“Do I need to be leaving?” The man asks and Larry can't help flicking his eyes up to see what he's doing.

“I know the museum’s technically closed right now but I just thought with working here, and after today's fiasco, that I’d clean up here before I left."

Ahkmenrah is leaned back, looking down his body as he pulls the edge of his jeans down a bit on one side, dipping the paper towel over a bit of ash that Larry can't quite make out from where he stands. He can make out where the trail of dark hair starts to thicken though and he tries not to stutter when he speaks.

“No. No, uh, you’re fine. You can stay and” he pauses, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks between the half nude egyptian and the leaky fountain.

“...clean up.” He finishes with a small frown, his voice trailing off before he adds “You know what, we actually have a small bathroom off the security office. It has a shower. A tiny one with kind of creepy concrete walls, but it’s got decent hot water pressure.”

He waits a beat, gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb in the general direction of said shower. Ahkmenrah, slowly rebutting his pants, turns to face him with what Larry is almost positive is a poorly hid smirk.

"You’re free to use it if you'd like." He elaborates when Ahkmenrah continues to stare at him without commenting. An expression Larry's unsure of how to interpret flickers over his face before a wide grin settles across his lips even as he shakes his head.

"I'm alright. Thank you." He declines, turning his back to Larry and lifting the handful of paper towels up to his shoulder.

"I promise I won't walk in on you in there." Larry jokes, and despite his nervous laughter he's half concerned the thought might really be an issue for his coworker. The thought that he might've made the younger man weary enough around him to avoid his own comfort in order to feel safe makes his stomach churn.

He tries to reassure himself that he's over thinking, over worrying, because if Ahkmenrah really felt that insecure about his virtue and safety he doubtedly would of unbuttoned his pants and continued to stand around half naked.

Ahkmenrah turns his head enough to side eye him over his shoulder, his grin still there although smaller and definitely looking more like a smirk.

"I'll be fine waiting until I'm home to shower properly. I have a few errands to run before I can though so I wanted to clean up here a bit." He explains and Larry nods in understanding.

"I just thought it might be preferable to..." He trails off, motioning to the fountain and mass of wet paper.

"The thought is appreciated, Larry."

Licking his lips he nods, tries to convince himself to let Ahkmenrah clean up in peace. He gazes down the hall towards the entrance of the African Mammals exhibit and almost convinces his feet to carry him there when Ahkmenrah speaks up.

"Larry?" He calls, and Larry realizes that Ahkmenrah's still watching him over his shoulder. "If you'd like to be of help, could you check my back?" He asks, holding the paper towels out over his shoulder in a physical representation of his request.

"Sure." He mutters, proud of himself for not stuttering.

He does take his time to walk over, not wanting to appear too eager. Taking the offered paper towels he returns the smile Ahkmenrah gives him and waits until the younger man has turned back around to face the wall. Biting his lips he looks between the surprisingly warm paper in his fist and the tan back, noticing how much broader and smoother it is up close.

When he finally presses the paper against the skin of Ahkmenrah's back goosebumps spring up at the touch. He watches the shiver shooting down the man's spine curiously.

“Your back isn’t that dirty actually.” He comments, dragging the paper down the curve of his spine experimentally. Ahkmenrah gives a small arch of his back at the touch even as he shrugs.

His hand is still pressed into the slight dip of Ahkmenrah's lower back when the man peers once again at him over his shoulder. Up close Larry can make out the slightest hint of five o'clock shadow on his sharp jaw line and the different hues of green in his eyes.

"Is it not?" He asks, his english accent coming out strong with the tone of innocence he's obviously trying to convey. Larry ponders on the accent, wonders where all the Egyptian man has lived, where he was raised.

About to drop his hand and step away, reassure Ahkmenrah that his back really was rather clean, he notices a glint in the man's eyes and averts his gaze to the paper towels smooshed into a ball in his fist. They're even warmer now, soaking in both his and Ahkmenrah's body heat and he tries to focus on that and not the way he's being peered at through dark lashes.

"Hm. Strange." Ahkmenrah drawls, still watching him with that same mischievous gleam in his eyes. "I'm usually very dirty."

The sudden suggestiveness in Ahkmenrah's voice has Larry coughing in surprise, head jerking up to access the man's expression. His hand drops back to his side as Ahkmenrah turns to face him. His head is held high, sharp chin angled up and out as he laughs under his breath at how flustered he's managed to make Larry.

His playful, prideful, grin is bold and makes it easy for Larry to decipher that he really wasn't hallucinating, Ahkmenrah did just slip in an innuendo. He finds himself laughing at the absurdity, trying not to get his hopes up that the situation really was flirtatious.  

Ahkmenrah's smile softens. "I guess I'm all ready to head out then."

Larry's laughter quiets at the words, a sudden weight in his stomach at the realization. Despite the layer of awkwardness and embarrassment on his own part he really enjoys the company and doesn't want the man to leave.

“I guess.” He sighs. Ahkmenrah turns and picks up his shirt from where he'd stashed it. He can't help but watch as Ahkmenrah slowly slips it on, fixing him with a sly grin as he does that leaves Larry suspecting the action is full of seductive intent. The thought gives him enough courage to clear his throat and make a suggestion.

"If you're not in a rush you could hang around a bit longer. I could show you some of my inventions. I mean you seemed sorta interested earlier so-"

"I'd love to Larry." Ahk declares, interrupting Larry's nervous talking.

Smoothing out the front of his shirt he moves closer until he's standing in front of Larry who swallows and tries not to feel like prey. He makes a mental note about their height and when he finds himself actually looking up at the man, then consecutively he makes another note regarding the sudden thrum of arousal throughout him as he looks up the inch or two needed to meet Ahkmenrah's eyes as being an indication of a newfound attraction to taller men.

Actually, thinking about it, even his ex wife was an inch taller than him, maybe he's always had a thing for tall beauties.

Ahkmenrah's gaze flickers over his face and for a breathtaking moment Larry thinks, hopes, he's about to lean forward and kiss him. Instead he brushes past him, bumping their shoulders as he does. Turning Larry watches him walk a few feet away, admiring the fit of his jeans and the view from behind. It’s the legs, he thinks as he watches the egyptian stride.

Yes, he definitely has a thing for tall beauties he decides. Tall beauties with legs for miles.

Ahkmenrah keeps walking until he's outside the hall of African mammals and stops, leaning back against the entrance, his slender body arched against the entryways wooden frame. Maybe it’s also the expanse of smooth torso he has, Larry concedes to himself, easily imagining the man once again shirtless.

Tall beauties, long legs, slender bodies, he adds up admiring the man's form as he tries to mentally map out the proportions of his body.

"I thought you wanted to show me your..." Ahkmenrah pauses, tilting his head back and jutting his jaw out in an endearingly arrogant way as he lets the sentence linger in the air suggestively for a beat before finishing, "Inventions."

Oh, Larry thinks as he finds his feet and quickly crosses the distance. He amends to his list of turn ons the addition of sharp jawlines that could cut diamonds.

"Well, in here we have some basic animatronics." He starts to explain, listing off some basic information and facts that Ahkmenrah might find interesting.

"Where's the monkey? The real one?" Ahkmenrah wonders, glancing around the room as if he was hiding just out of sight.

"Oh, the capuchin." Larry sighs, trying to hide his bitterness. "Dexter is Wea's personal pet. He comes and goes with her."

"I see. How do you turn these guys off?" Ahkmenrah asks, gesturing at the realistic lions stretching out across the exhibits stone slabs.

Larry goes about his routine, explaining the process and technology as he does, enjoying the way the Egyptians eyes brighten when he learns something new.

The next hour is spent walking slowly between exhibits, their conversation drifting between Larry's work, their mutual passion for history, and flirtatious banter. It's pleasant, entertaining and over way too soon when simultaneously Larry closes the control panels to the last exhibit and Ahkmenrah's phone buzzes in his pocket.

He straightens up, standing there awkwardly as Ahkmenrah checks his phone with a quick glance.

“So..” He trails off, unsure of what to say. The younger man throws him a smile.

“That’s was my friend, Amelia. I’m supposed to be meeting her at the airport.”

Larry nods. “Right.” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, barely catching himself before he begins to chew it. “Guess you should be heading out then, huh?“

“I should.” Agrees Ahkmenrah with a small nod, his smile still in place and sounding just shy of reluctant.

“I hope she's not too annoyed with you for keeping her waiting.” Larry looks across the lobby, notices Tilly walking towards them.

“She’s fine. She’ll find something to keep herself entertained if I end up too late.” Ahkmenrah reassures him. Larry tries to ignore Tilly, hoping she’ll switch directions and leave them alone, feeling an irrational sense of greed over Ahkmenrah’s attention.

“What are you meeting at the airport for?” He asks, his curiosity getting the best of him. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.” He adds, not wanting to come across as invasive.

“It’s okay. I’d tell you if I really knew, but I’m not sure to be honest.” At Larry’s raised eyebrow he elaborates. “She likes to keep thing spontaneous. I did make her promise we wouldn’t actually be getting on a plane though.”

Before Larry can respond, carry on the conversation out a bit longer, Ahkmenrah’s pocket starts singing. _I fly like paper, get high like planes. If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name. If you come around here, I make 'em all day. I get one down in a second if you wait._

“That would be her, actually.” Ahkmenrah mutters, not bothering to make a move towards answering his phone.

An amused quiet falls between them, Ahkmenrah’s eyes narrowing and lips pursing as he lets it ring itself out. Larry’s trying not laugh at the cuteness of the expression when he notices Tilly pause at the front desk before taking a seat and he wants to sigh in relief.

“I probably should be going.” Ahkmenrah sighs as the ringtone comes to a halt, his phone giving up its attempt to attract his attention.

Larry shuffles closer, unsure of what he’s supposed to do now. Ask for Ahkmenrah’s number? Ask him out? Just say goodbye and leave it at that?

He settles on, "Thanks for the company."

Ahkmenrah tilts his head to the side, peering at him through dark lashes and for a second Larry realizes they’re thick with makeup. It’s a subtle, attractive detail that makes the man even more intriguing.

"My pleasure.” Ahkmenrah says, voice barely above a whisper. Larry licks his lips at the words, tries to remind himself to keep it together when Ahkmenrah’s eyelashes actually _flutter_ as he adds, “It's all so fascinating, what you do."

"Well I suppose inventing new things and watching them work can be fun." Larry reasons, feeling embarrassed under the younger man’s steady gaze.

"I meant more of how you make the museum come to life every night." Ahkmenrah clarifies, an admiring look of wonder lit up in his eyes.

"It's amazing, how you combine your knowledge of history and your love of invention. No one else has done such a thing on such a grand scale as this before and have it come together so beautifully." He gushes and Larry has to fight a blush off at the compliment.

"Oh." Larry breathes, not quite expecting the praise. "Well it wouldn't be as perfect if we didn't have amazing workers to play the living exhibits so well.” Ahkmenrah shakes his head softly, fondly, at the obvious attempt to turn the compliment back around.

Larry wants to insist that Ahkmenrah really was perfect for his part and the Egyptian exhibit wouldn’t be as effective without him, but then he spots Tilly waving her arms at him from where she’s sitting halfway across the room.

"Mr. Daley!" She calls, and he tries to ignore her for a little longer, turning his attention back to the other man who’s still gazing at him with a focused eye.

“Mr. Daley!” She tries again and this time Ahkmenrah turns to look in her direction and what was left of the moment completely evaporates from Larry’s fingers. He clenches and unclenches his fists a few times to relieve the tension he feels at the interruption.

“ _Larry!_ ” Till’s voice echoes this time with the use of the loudspeaker.

"You should probably go, that sounds urgent." Ahkmenrah says, his eyes going wide and face flitting between amusement and a good parody of concern.

Larry rolls his eyes but smiles. "Yeah, wouldn't want her to have an aneurism." He jokes, waving back at Tilly until he’s sure she recognizes the universal gesture of ‘one second’ that he signals to her.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, nervous of the answer despite the surety that they’ll see each other at work.

Ahkmenrah nods, a small smile twisting his lips as he starts to turn away. “Until tomorrow.” He says and Larry grins.

“Actually, unless you plan on being super late to work, I’ll see you tonight.” He teases, pointing to the his wristwatch. Ahkmenrah stops mid turn, glancing back at him.

"Until tonight then, Larry." He amends, amusement clear in his tone. There’s a warm pause between them

"Goodnight Ahkmenrah."

Ahkmenrah looks at him with an odd expression. "What?"

"Call me Ahk. All my friends do."

"Alright, goodnight then Ahk."

"Don't you mean goodmorning?" Ahk asks teasingly as he backs away.

Larry laughs and watches him take large steps through the lobby until he's out of sight before finally turning and paying Tilly mind. The blonde waggles her eyebrows at him and throws a thumb towards the exit as he gets closer.

“What was that about?” She implores suggestively, the humor as clear in her voice as the willingness to gossip like a teenager is on her face.

"What was what?" He regrets asking as soon as the words leave his mouth.

"You know, the two of you over there, having your little moments with stars and hearts and all sorts of other wicked shapes in your eyes." She persists, leaning closer to him in her seat.

"Did I just witness a thing?" She gasps, her fingers grabbing the edge of the desk in excitement.

“A thing?” He's tired, confused, and even a little embarrassed, the combination leaving him with troubles following along.

She grins, "You two have a thing don't you?"

He closes his eyes, trying to think of a way to divert the topic away. When he opens them again she's still grinning. He's about to attempt a change of subject when she deliberately squeezes her eyes shut as if in an intense slow motion. The action leaves him baffled.

"What was that?" He asks, motioning to her face. She looks momentarily affronted before eyeing him like he's a bit slow.

“I winked. That was a wink.” She repeats the strange not-a-wink again

He tightens his lips. “That was not a wink.” He tells her.

“Yuh huh. That's how I wink, I wink with both eyes. Like a double wink.” She insists, Larry  continues to shake his head.

“No, that’s just a slow blink. Kind of looks like you’re in pain.” He informs her, not having the patience to pretend it was just a wink.

She gives him a small glare before dropping the argument with a frustrated sigh.

“Wasn’t that the pharaoh guy? I heard he’s loaded.” She says glancing at the front doors as if Ahk could still be seen.

“Did you actually need me for something, or?” Larry grumbles, attempting to maneuver the conversation away from the egyptian.

So now Ahk wasn't just young and smart, but also rich, he thinks, mulling the information over in his head and feeling decisively below Ahk's league. He blinks away the negativity and concentrates on the way Tilly's face lights up instead.

“Oh! Right. So, I just got a call from Mister Andy Thal aka Caveman number four..." She explains, picking up a pencil and fiddling with it as she continues in a mocking manner, "aka Mr. I’m going to jump over a bucket of flames and be surprised when I knock it over and end up lighting me knickers on fire.”

“Okay?” Larry asks, wondering where this conversation was heading. He hoped nothing full of legal matters. If the man wanted to sue the museum he likely wouldn’t win and if he did McPhee would find a way to take it out of Larry’s check.

“He was hoping to get a message across to Director McPhee. See, he’s not coming into work tomorrow... or any day after that.” She explains, twirling the pencil around the curl of her ponytail.

“Why don't you just leave a memo for Dr. McPhee, why tell me this?" He asks, a little confused and a lot wary of her answer.

"Have you met my boyfriend?" She questions, dropping the pencil and groping her pockets for her phone.

"Um, what?" He asks, the sudden change in topic throwing him for a loop.

"Laaa." She says, or rather announces, as she pulls out her phone and starts clicking away on it.

Larry's left even more confused but he withholds from repeating himself in the hopes she'll explain herself or dismiss him. Tilly must finally find what she's searching through her phone for because she lets out a celebratory whoop and turns it to face him.

The picture he's shown is of a burly man, strong features with lots of hair helping to accent his rugged features. The bridge of his nose and the structure of his cheek bones is familiar and suddenly Larry remembers hearing about him.

"This is your boyfriend? He's the one everyone says kinda looks like me." He says, looking away from the brooding face.

"I don't know about that, he's much more manly than you are but I guess I can kind of see the resemblance. You know, if you were as big and strong and handsome as him." She trails off staring at the picture with practical heart eyes that look almost as glossy as her lips are.

Larry rolls his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Right, okay. I'll bite. What does your boyfriend have to do with anything?" He has a suspicion, though if he's wrong he'll have a suggestion because they're missing a neanderthal for their display while that man is only missing a fur loincloth to look like an exhibit.

"On my break I mentioned to Laaa what happened, and he agrees that if he took over the job it'd be the perfect opportunity for him to get to spend more time with me."

"Uh huh."

"He doesn't have the best resume though, do you think you could put a word in with the director to get him hired?" There's a begging lilt to her voice and she wrings her hands together pleadingly.

"Alright, fine." He decides out loud before she starts fluttering her lashes and attempts to pout. "I'll do you this one favor but he better be good at the job." He mutters, unable to not smile in return when she bounces happily in her seat and begins thanking him.

He's already a couple steps away when he remembers the ruined robe.

"Hey Tilly, could you leave note for Dr. McPhee letting him know where I stashed the pharaoh's robe? I don't need to be blamed for him thinking it up and disappeared."

She pauses in her texting to glance around before spotting where he'd set the garment earlier and gives him a curt nod.

"Sure. Don't know why he'd think it disappeared though, you're an inventor not a magician." She comments offhandedly as she goes back to typing.

He shakes his head and continues on his way out, amused by her logic and not feeling up to explaining what he'd meant.

That evening, laying in bed half asleep, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his brow despite having pulled the covers far away from himself and cranked the AC on high, he can faintly hear the familiar tune of his morning alarm. He falls asleep humming along to it under his breath like a background soundtrack to images of Ahk and wonders if he'll ever get the song or the guy out of his head.

-

On the other side of the wall the tanned lean form of an exhausted Egyptian spreads out across a wrinkled duvet. Setting the selected song on repeat he pushes his laptop aside, a smile twisting his lips he stares curiously at the wall separating him from his neighbor. He listens to the comforting tune as it fills the room, his tired mind weighing its suspicions about his neighbors identity. He sighs. He feels rather confident that he's right despite attempting to keep his hopes down just in case he's making the wrong assumptions. When sleep finally hits him he dreams of one man with one charming voice and one vast collection of inventions worthy of pride.

********  
  
  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually really happy with the name I came up with for the Neanderthal extra, Mr. Andy Thal.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where the Night Program really is just comprised of Larry's tech inventions, interactive displays, and actors.
> 
> Larry Daley has finally managed to work his way up from being more than a night guard at the AMNH. His proposition of setting up an interactive Night Program has finally been accepted and he's excited to put his inventions to work, but as Head of the Night Program he also has to help keep the actors organized and make sure everything runs smoothly.
> 
> Between the awful heat still plaguing NY, working to keep his boss happy, the actors from killing each other, and discovering he has an unfairly attractive co worker with an equally attractive personality to match, Larry's pretty sure he's got his hands full. This though doesn't stop him from also developing a crush on the mysterious voice worthy of belonging to a siren that has suddenly decided to start turning his habit of singing in the shower into instead singing duets in the shower by joining in from the neighboring bathroom adjacent to his own.

 

Chapter 3

 

 

-

 

 

 

The pillow is stuck to his chapped lips by a film of dried drool when he wakes up. His eyes feel dry and itch when he tries opening them. He lays there for a few minutes longer, not bothering to move until he realizes he doesn't hear the blare of his alarm.

Peeling his head away from the fabric he wrinkles his nose in disgust. The time reads over an hour earlier than his alarm. He's tempted to roll back over and try to catch up on sleep but the sweat on his skin is already beginning to itch.

Sitting up he shakes the tiredness from his limbs and stretches, figuring it's better that he gets up early enough to guarantee he gets to work on time. switching off his alarm he stands and heads to his bathroom.

It's after the toilets done flushing that he notices it. Tilting his head he walks closer to the shared wall, trying to make out the sound.

“Don't stop me, don't stop me. Have a good time, good time.”

The voice.

“Don't stop me, don't stop me, ahhhhh.”

Larry smiles, his neighbor isn't singing very loudly but his tone is cheerful, bordering on plain silly. He almost laughs out loud when his neighbor begins imitating the sound of the guitar.

"Oh, I'm burnin' through the skyyyy yeah."

He moves down the wall, stepping into his tub and pressing his ear closer to the wall.

"Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheeeiiit.”

Larry hums along, the energy of the upbeat singing bleeding through the wall.

"I'm trav'ling at the speed of liiiight" Larry takes a breath in preparation.

"I wanna make a supersonic man outta you." He sings, their voices meshing together for a second before the other’s voice is replaced by a sudden clatter on the other side of the wall. Larry snorts, amused that this time it wasn’t him that had been caught off guard.

"Don't stop me nooow, I'm having such a good tiiime." He continues to sing, not missing the beat as he hears the other man shuffle around behind the wall.

"I'm having a baaall." He's moving his neck and shoulders to the beat as he sings, a grin across his face as he lets himself get into the song. "Don't stop me nooow."   

"If you wanna have a good time, just give me a caaall.” The voice join back in, louder than before and Larry lets out a small laugh, trying to ignore the flirtatiousness that he might be imagining.  

“Don't stop me nooow.” He sings, letting his head fall against the cool tile of the shower wall. Without a seconds pause the voice follows up with the next line, “Cause I'm having a good time.”

“Don't stop me nooow.”

“Yes, I'm havin' a good time.”

“I don't want to stop at aaaalllll.” Their voices fall into a harmony together with the last line, and Larry doesn't realize how loud they’ve gotten until the cliche sound of something suspiciously like broom is banging against his floorboards followed by a cursory yell of, “Shut up already!”

The voice must hear it too, as the last note they’re dragging out disintegrates into duel fits of laughter. Pressing his palms against the wall he supports himself until his laughter starts to quiet down and suddenly he’s noticing the background noise of running water again. The sound of the man’s shower reminds him that he’s standing nude in a dry tub listening to the warm, honest to goodness- _giggling_ , of an equally naked stranger. A stranger who’s fun, possibly flirty, probably very wet, and can sing with a voice that should have it’s own record label.

The giggle tapers off with a full sigh that reminds him strangely of Ahk.

At the thought of Ahkmenrah his stomach drops a little in an odd way that he thinks might be guilt, though he's not sure what he'd feel guilty over, let alone why. He's still puzzling the feeling over when he notices the lack of muffled noises from the others bathroom.

After a moment of listening he decides the interaction is over and turns to start his shower, jumping just out of reach of the sudden spray of water in time to avoid the shockingly cold temperature of it. Sticking his fingers under the water he waits for it to warm up to where it's supposed be.

He frowns at the virtually empty bottle of soap and twists off the lid. He really should have stopped by the store on his way home but he'd been distracted by thoughts of a smooth skinned Egyptian. He lets his mind wander to the previous night as he adds a bit of water to the bottle.

It doesn't take long before he catches himself smiling, an actual blush warming his face as he tries to ignore the memories of all the ways he'd managed to embarrass himself and instead directs his focus on the surety he feels that the attraction might be mutual.

He gives the bottle a couple small shakes, swirling the water around in an attempt at collecting what soap is left clinging to the plastic container. He measures the likelihood he hadn't been imagining the playful flirting, the suggestive comments and well played innuendos. He doesn't think he's made it all up, at least not the entirety and that's good enough for him to feel a surge of positivity.

He's humming show tunes and moving with a bounce to his step by the time he leaves the bathroom, halfway through getting dressed his lips are well bitten from his attempts to suppress the smile that’s fixed itself on his face. The unbearable amount of afternoon heat doesn’t even elicit the usual grumbling from under his breath.

When he heads to make himself breakfast he practically skips, navigating the kitchen in a way he wouldn’t even be able to deny would be appropriately defined as a form of prancing. Pulling out a few base ingredients to make a smoothie he tries to remember the last time he felt so helplessly giddy and thinks that maybe the night he got McPhee’s approval of his request to create the night program might count. Although he had  donated his life savings to the museum in order to make it happen and Erica definitely hadn’t been too pleased at him for the action when she found out, he hadn’t been able to keep from feeling satisfied with the turn of events.

As if the thought summoned her the sound of his ex wife's ringtone chimes unexpectedly at him while he's trying to locate his blender. Despite not being entirely welcome the unexpected call is still not enough to kick the smile off his lips. Shutting the door to a kitchen cabinet that didn't hold the missing appliance he pats at his pants pockets before remembering he left his phone sitting next to the frozen strawberries.

He practically sings into his phone when he answers, "Hey, what's up?"

"Larry, hey, I'm guessing I didn't wake you up?"

She doesn’t sound sound angry or like he’s about to be lectured so he lets his shoulders relax a bit as he shuffles over to his next searching place.

"No, you didn't,” He says. “I woke up earlier than usual today so it's fine." He peers into yet another cabinet, squinting at the near empty contents as if it’ll help the blender magically appear.

"Okay, good. I'm calling about Nicky." It doesn't surprise him, he didn't expect her to call about anything else really.

"I know you were supposed to pick him up next Thursday for his haircut before school starts, but he's decided he doesn't want to."

He nods, fully aware she can't see him, tilting his head to stare at the pots in front of him as if they might be withholding information about the blenders secret whereabouts.

"That's fine, there's a couple weeks left. I can call and push back his appointment. Unless he's decided to let you just cut his hair at home."

Shutting the cabinet he scratches his head, trying to think of where it might be.

"No actually, he doesn't want to get a haircut at all, at any time. He's decided he wants to try growing it out for a while. See if he likes it better that way." She's speaking slowly, in the way she does when trying to get an unspoken point across that she assumes he'll need spelled out.

"Oh." He has a hunch actually.

"Is this related to when Don found him playing in your makeup?" He asks.

There's a small sigh and then the sound of her clearing her throat. He takes a seat at the small kitchen table.

"I really don't know. Look, honestly I at first wanted to call and try to get you to convince or bribe him or just make him cut it anyway. But then Don brought up how it's probably just a phase and even if it's not it's healthiest to let him experiment with it now at his own pace then try to discourage him from growing into himself, whatever self that might be."

There's a pause and Larry waits to see if that's all she has to say.

"And I agree." She adds in a warning tone that dares him to argue on it.

"I do too," He says, fighting a laugh. "Of course I want what's best for Nicky, I'll take him out shopping for hair bands or whatever instead then." It’s really not as if he hadn’t noticed the shift in Nicky since he hit puberty. He might of been the last to really connect the dots but he wasn’t going to be the one to make a big deal of it either.

She doesn't say anything but he can practically hear the release of tension in her breathing.

"I could buy him his own makeup if he wants, it's probably not very hygienic for him to use your eye stuff, right?" He offers, stretching to reach over and snag the bag of frozen strawberries from it’s perch on the counter.

"I'm not sure that's necessary right now, you'd probably just end up embarrassing him if you brought it up. Try not to pressure him about anything until he comes to you about it, he’s obviously trying to figure himself out and there’s plenty of different conclusions he may come to. We can’t just go assuming."

"Hmmm, you're right,” He agrees. “I’ll try being objectively supportive without saying anything directly."

"That would be perfect, he needs to know you're supportive of more than just his traditionally masculine hobbies."

Larry feels his eyebrows furrow, "Of course I am." He says, feeling momentarily defensive.

"I know Larry, but I'm not sure he does. He hasn't said anything to me directly but I get the feeling he's worried about disappointing his father by not being the ultimate son. When Don caught him in my makeup he was mostly afraid of us telling you about it."

He hums, placing his chin into his free hand.

"Maybe if I went on a date with a guy he might feel more reassured that it's safe to talk to me about anything less than traditionally masculine."

His thoughts drift to Ahk and then to the voice. Between the two he feels optimistically confident he’ll be able to make a date. The thought makes a thrum of hope flow through him.

Erica snorts. "You'd have to stop working long enough to meet someone first," she laughs, teasing. "It's been so long since you dated I'd believe it if you actually forgot how to flirt altogether, you weren't that good at it to start with."

He let’s her words roll off him as he continues imagining the hypothetical dates and realizes he must of made a noise as he'd been thinking because he can sense the moment her demeanor changes from playful to intrigued.

"Larry?" She asks. She sounds suspicious, interested, like a cat that's caught wind of a nearby mouse. "What was that?"

"What?" Even as he asks he knows his attempt to play dumb is futile.

"That noise. That wistfully smug sound, similar to the one you make when you come up with a new invention that you claim would be game changing if only you had the funds to make it a reality."

He fumbles through a halfhearted attempt at dismissing her question by playing ignorant before he’s interrupted.

"So who is it?" She asks talking over him.

He shuts up and leans back in his chair with a fresh grin."

"Who?" He asks, wiping a hand down his face. It does nothing to erase his grin, which only aides in it growing instead.

"The one who has you full of happy sighs and talking in a cheery tone when you don't usually sound anywhere near pleased when you're up early. I'm going to safely assume it's a guy by your suggestion. So spill, who is he?"

"What do mean, I can't just be in high spirits when I wake up, or just be happy to hear from you?" The disbelieving sound she makes is akin to a no and he tries to hold in a laugh, "Why does my good mood have to be because of a guy?"

"So it is a guy." She says like that's exactly what he had just told her.

He sighs, his grin warping into a wry smile, and easily gives in.

"Fine, you got me." He can practically hear her smug smirk.

"So what's his name then?" She questions, not missing a beat.

He can easily imagine her eagerly clutching the phone to her ear and wonders if it should be weird that his ex wife is so invested in his dating life. He hadn’t been nearly as nosey when she had left him for Dom, he’d mostly been sore yet unsurprised about it.

He taps his fingers on the table, twists his lips together, contemplating on how much he should tell her.

"Well, there's actually two guys but one might not count as our only interaction has been karaoke through the shared wall of our bathroom." He finally settles on as he opens the bag in front of him and takes in the sweet smell of the fruit.

" _Larry!_ " She gasps. He smirks at her surprise.

The rest of his time before he has to leave is spent talking with her, gushing over his crushes and eating the thawed strawberries straight from the bag.

When he shows up at work he's right on time and is slightly disappointed he doesn't see Ahk hanging around. He tries not to let it worry him as he goes about his job but the residual feelings of happiness from the start of his day are starting to fade out the longer he goes without seeing him, McPhee's warning about being late still hot on his mind.

When the giant Jackyl guards go up and there’s still no sign of the Egyptian he clamps down his anxiousness and tries telling himself there's still time before Ahk would be counted as late. He distracts himself by moving on to the Easter Island Head and ignores the way his gut flips when he sees the nearby fountain.

As he walks into the Hall of African Mammals he tries to ignore the pit of arousal the memories of last night try to stir in him. The ball of concern in his chest for the approaching time helps. His phones chimes and he pulls it out to see Erica had sent him a winky face. He rolls his eyes and then frowns when he notices the time. Twenty minutes.

In the middle of pocketing his phone a blur moves across his peripheral vision. He instinctually braces himself for the quick physical assault of Dexter using his head as a stepping stone between trees. The monkey settles himself on a favored branch and looks at him with downturned lips.

“Ha! What’s wrong little Dexie? Didn’t find any precious keys to steal? Did you forget I don’t carry them anymore, cause Tilly does?”

He can’t help but taunt, the capuchin had given him hell over the last couple months of rehearsals, getting him adjusted to the new area and crowds.

“Go ahead, pout. Cause you won’t be harrassing me with your little thieving ways anymore,” The monkey titters at him and grins with all his teeth, Larry suddenly feels much more concerned with what Dexter is up to than he is about gloating.

“Dex? Dexter. What,” Dexter shuffles farther down the branch creating more distance and Larry finally notices the way he’s holding something behind his back.”What have you got Dexter?”

The monkey bounces in place with a noise that can only be considered as a laugh before leaning tauntingly closer and starts practically crooning at him.

“Dexter!” The shout is full of warning, accentuated by finger pointing as he tries to step closer. The move has Dexter scurries even farther away and Larry growls in frustration, balling his hands into fists before suddenly stopping, frowning.

Relaxing his hands, raising them up higher, he inspects his empty palms. There’s a moment pause as realization hits him before he’s smacking at his pockets in further confirmation, Dexter snickering his amusement just out of reach.

When he looks up again, Dexter meets his eyes before proudly pulling Larry’s phone out from behind his back.

“Ok Dex. Look,” He tries to make his voice go soft, sweet, and raises his palms up in a surrendering gesture, “I know this is all fun and games to you, but that is an expensive object you have there, not a toy,” He takes a few small steps forward and winces when Dexter shifts in place, afraid the phone will go flying across the room any second, “And I need it back now.”

Dexter inches closer to him and he smiles, “I just upgraded phones not to long ago and really can’t risk you breaking it with your spiteful little monkey games, okay?” He tries to work his voice to sound even friendlier as he speaks, even as he can’t help his annoyance slipping through.

“Come on little fella, come here. Give it to me.”

Dexter scoots closer, just out of reach, holding the phone in both hands as he raises it above his head. Smiling Larry moves slowly, afraid to spook the monkey into changing his mind, and holds his palm out flat. “That’s it Dex, just let me have it,” He coaxes.

Lowering his outstretched arms Dexter smiles, just as Larry’s feeling grateful for Dexter actually listening to him for once the arms comes swinging forward passed his waiting hand to smack him soundly across the face. He lets his mouth fall open, staring incredulously at the monkey before reeling back with a growl, lifting his open palm and swinging it back.

“Lawrence!” The call of his name gives him pause and his hand freezes mid motion, raised above his shoulder. He glances quickly over his shoulder and makes out his coworker Teddy riding up behind him on Texas, amazed at the horse's ability to walk so stealthily.

“My boy, what are you doing? Raising your hand to an animal?” Said animal stretches, lifting the phone above his little head.

Larry doesn’t want to take his eyes off of him long enough to hold eye contact with Teddy as he speaks, afraid that the second he does Dexter will have found a way to break his phone.

“I was just,” Larry starts, glancing between his phone and Teddy who is frowning disapprovingly down at him in a way that makes him feel small and childish. “He slapped me first!” He whines, fully aware of how petulant he sounds.

Teddy tilts his head down, a clear message of no excuses in his his raised eyebrow. Larry huffs out a frustrated sigh and lets his poised hand drop limply to his side.

After a moment of being stared at in criticising silence Larry starts to feel ashamed of his less than exemplary behavior and finds himself once again pointing at the monkey. An itch of of defensiveness crawls over him and he finds himself shouting, “He started it!”

Teddy only tuts as Texas shifts under him. The horse makes a noise and takes a step back from Larry in a way that makes him feel as if he should take offense at the action.

“He stole my phone, Teddy.” He adds more calmly with a wave towards Dexters precarious grip on his stolen possession.

“Now, now,” Teddy says. “Why didn’t you just ask him for it back.”

Larry’s grunt of protest is cut short as the older man reaches passed him with a gloved hand. “Dexter, if you would please?” He asks, and Dexter shuffles forward and with delicate precision places the device in the man's palm before running up his arm and taking perch on his shoulder.

Larry stares sullenly, accepting his phone as it’s offered and pocketing it with a begrudging “Thanks.” Turning he starts back into his job, watching Teddy interact happily with the little troublemaker from the corner of his eye.

“You should be more careful on your temper, Lawrence.” Teddy speaks up, breaking the amicable silence that had started to grow as Larry worked. “You know how Wea is about all the animals that come through her rescue and rehabilitation program, especially the ones she takes home. It would do you no good if she caught you fighting with her dear pet.”

“He just doesn’t like me.” Larry grouces, snapping the panels back into place and listening to the life like noises of the lions as they begin to roar awake. Teddy gives a smile, a familiar twinkle in his eye, “Oh, doesn’t he?” He says raising an arm to the nearest tree. Dexter dutifully runs across it, jumping onto the branch.

Larry knows Teddy isn’t going to elaborate when he gets Texas moving towards the exit, nodding politely to a young man wearing a white polo with the recognizable logo of Wea’s rescue facility. Larry sighs and almost takes a step forward when he see’s the look of confused dismay on the worker's face directed approximately to where Dexter hovers above him. In a moment of quick thinking he swiftly reverses his step and backs away, barely dodging the stream of urine as it rains down in front of him.

“Ugh!” He takes a wide step around the newly forming puddle and away from the splash zone. “Nice try you disgusting devil.” He mutters with a glare. “But you’re not gonna get Uncle Larry this time.”

The worker in white moves forward with caution, Larry pats him on the shoulder as he passes. “Might want to get that cleaned up, doors open in what,” He says, glancing at his watch. “Eight minutes.”

Oh man, he thinks, only eight minutes. He tries to reason that surely Ahk will be clocked in and ready to work by now. He decides to locate McPhee, let him know everything is ready to go and be ready to distract his boss from the Egyptians tardiness if needed. Swinging through Ahk’s exhibit on his way to find his boss he frowns. The tall artificial guards stand alone with no Pharaoh in sight, shifting on their feet in a mimicry of agitation and nerves. He likes to believe their on edge, that their driven need to protect their ward is compromised by Ahkmenrah’s lack of presence.

It’s in a corner of the lobby, next to the hall leading to McPhee’s office, where he catches sight of his boss but it’s the golden headpiece that steals his attention. He pushes past the odd groups of reenactors clustered about, with every foot closer he can make out more of the lithe man, whose bright grin as he talks to McPhee helps alleviate the concern that had twisted Larry’s breath into a knot in his chest.  

The man is playing with edges of his donned cape, the material looking pristine in the sense of a well preserved heirloom, draped over his shoulders and cascading down his back. The urge to run his fingers along the fragile yet regal fabric has Larry’s fingers twitching. He’s trying to pick up pieces of their conversation over the crowd but their quiet voices are easily drowned out by the loud chatter of the boisterous cowboys as he pushes through them.

When he’s only a few feet away Ahk looks up and notices him, eyes brightening and a fresh smile blooming softly across his mouth. Their eyes hold contact and for a moment his belly does a little flip over itself as his breath catches in his throat. Within the second he takes to tell himself he’s too old to be getting butterflies from a boy he manages to collide into McPhee’s solid back. Jumping away from the sudden contact McPhee twists around to glare at him, a hand clutching his chest in dismay at the surprising impact.

Larry rubs the back of his neck and mutters out an apology, trying to not look directly at the amusement clearly playing across Ahk’s face.

"Excuse me." He says, attempting to direct the apology towards his boss despite how his eyes continuously want to flit back onto Ahk. McPhee mutters something vaguely scatheing that Larry doesn’t quite catch. Looking between them McPhee stands there, as if waiting for a response to his snark. When he doesn’t get one he rolls his eyes, throwing his hands in the air exasperatedly. “Don’t mind me, wouldn’t want to interrupt.” He mocks before turning his attention, “Thank you again Ahkmenrah, fine job.”

Ahk doesn’t bother dividing his attention away from Larry. McPhee rolls his eyes once more and disappears into the crowd behind them. They’re left alone in their own bubble amidst their fellow co workers, just looking at each other. The focused undivided attention of the younger man makes Larry feel simultaneously intimidated by it’s intensity and powerful at being able to attain it. He bites his lip, trying to figure out a string of words to say that won’t make him sound like an idiot. 

A yawn breaks through the wordless moment and Larry’s lip curls up in a soft smile at the way Ahk’s nose scrunches in an attempt to cover his mouth. His smile doesn’t last long, the muscles of his jaw flexing as he succumbs to the same urge.

“Contagious,” He mutters through his yawn.

This time it’s Ahk who smiles, a fond look in his eyes that sparkles lightly with mischievousness and makes Larry’s stomach flip over itself again.  

“Sorry,” Ahk says, though he doesn’t sound like he much means it. Larry rolls his eyes, distracted by the tell tale signs of a restless night he recognizes on Ahk’s face, namely the bruise tinted bags beginning to show under his large eyes, Larry suspects it’s the tastefully applied layer of makeup that kept them almost unnoticeable.

“You look…” He starts, the words catching in his throat a second too late as he realizes it might be rude to point it out, “Tired.” He finishes the thought with a shrug, trying to play it off as an offhand comment that wasn’t meant to criticize Ahkmenrah’s appearance in a way that might matter.

This time it’s Ahk’s turn to respond with a good natured eye roll, a wry smirk twisting his mouth as he inches inconspicuously closer.

"Hmm,” Ahk hums, and Larry thinks he might be able to feel the man’s breath with how close they suddenly are. “I wonder why?” He asks, lifting a hand as the hypothetical question lingers between them before he lowers a finger and continues, “I did hang around after work for longer than necessary when I knew I had to run errands before I could sleep.” Another finger drops, “And then I got up before noon to run to my insufferable brothers fabric shop,” His head tilts to the left as if thinking as he lowers his thumb, “Where I spent the next few hours convincing him to help me get the quality materials needed for the robe.” His hand drops in a swooping motion, collecting the edge of said material carefully in his palm. Larry licks his lips and forces his eyes to lower from Ahk’s lips to the proffered fabric.

Despite looking on the edge of exhausted Ahk looks proud as he glances between his creation and Larry. His fingers twitch once again to touch and so he does, reaching out and placing his palm over the section of robe. He tries to tell himself he’s not kind of holding the Egyptian’s hand, forcing himself to move his fingers and not just rest his palm limply above the others.

Carefully ghosting the pads of his fingers over the material, he find himself feeling ridiculously cliche and youthful when his thumb brushes along the obscenely smooth skin of Ahk’s fingers resulting in an actual shiver to go through him. The words of his response, of a urge to praise, die in his throat at the distraction. Before he can struggle to find his voice a blur of motion behind Ahk catches his eye right before he finds his arms full of young pharaoh.

The sudden weight of Ahk pressed into him almost throws him off balance but he quickly helps right them both, thankfully unable to dwell on the amount of bodily contact because of the commotion before them. Glancing between Ahk, still partially in his arms, and the small warring crowd of workers he tries to read the situation.

"You okay?" He asks, voice low, brows furrowed in concern as he attempts to help him regain his balance and composure.

After a reassuring nod from Ahk he steps forcefully between the two men at the center of the drama.

"Woah, woah. Alright."  He tries to voice over the loud banter, using his body to physically block the stray attempts at assault. “Cut it out. Calm down.”

Receiving a sharp jab into his side he grits his teeth and levels a dry look of aggravation at the aggressor.  “What’s your problem? Seriously.”

The man, a blonde with a crooked nose and angry blue eyes, folds his arms across his chest and glares out from under the brim of his hat.  

"Out of the way, this is not your fight.”

"Yeah. Who do you think you are? Common into the middle of a man's fight, like some kinda gigantor? Why don’t you just back off."

Placing his hands on his hips he stares the cowboy down, trying to muster the same unflinching no room for argument voice he uses to lecture Nicky with.

“No, I won’t just back off. I’m Larry Daley, I’m actually in charge of the Night Program.” He says, catching the Roman’s eyes widening in recognition as the blonde’s eyebrows furrow a bit in consideration.

“Now listen, guys, what is your problem, huh? Why can’t you just get along?”

"He started it!” The roman all but squeaks, pointing a petulant finger at the cowboy whose arms cross over his chest defensively.

“If you kept your men in front of your own diorama we wouldn’t have issues.” Spits the blonde, the words are followed by an outraged gasp of indignation from the Roman.

“How dare you, it’s your men who dance around carelessly, throwing props anywhere and everywhere at the inconvenience of my men!” The Roman bellows. Larry waves his arms between them to redirect their attention back onto himself.

“Enough. Okay? Why not calm down and try to work something out? You’ve had lots of rehearsal days to get your acts together.”

The scowl on the cowboys face falls as he drops his hands, waving them in emphasize as he talks, “Look, we’re men. We fight, okay? That’s what we do.”

Larry has to fight the eyeroll he feels when suddenly the furious tension between the men beside him dissipates as if practically palpable sparks hadn’t just been shooting off their glares. “It’s kinda how we pass the time,” the Roman chimes in, looking almost innocently lost as he glances between Larry’s unamused glare and the cowboy’s pout.

“You’re a boss, with power like a giant, a freak if you will,” The blonde says, still talking with his hands and seemingly ignorant to Larry’s unamused glare, “We can’t expect you to understand that.”

Rather than comment on the insults Larry’s expression changes to incredulous as he watches the two men. “You guys got the whole room to run around in. You don’t have to be near each other.”

The roman shuffles in place, leaning his weight onto one foot as he scuffs at the polished floor with his other sandal. “What? You mean-”

“You’re gonna let us roam free?” The blonde interrupts in a voice that was almost a hopeful whisper. Larry can’t help the surge of parental care that the puppy dog look in the man’s eyes brings.

He let’s his voice go softer, “Yeah. Yeah, I might if you promise to behave. No fighting, chasing, kicking, or screaming.” He levels them with a look that he hopes says he wants to be the nice guy but he won’t take any misbehavior lightly.

The roman straightens up, a fist t his chest as he tilts his head in towards Larry. “You have my word, my liege.”

Larry waits, watching as the blonde side eyes his coworker, looking like he sort of wants to roll his eyes at the man but the look quickly transitions to eagerness as he glances between them and nods in agreement. “Yeah, no problemo, Gigantor.”

“My name’s Larry actually-” he starts but before he can continue in on that particular nuance he can hear McPhee ordering people into places around the room. He shakes his head and holds up a hand to whatever the cowboy’s opened his mouth to say.

“Look, I’m trusting you guys, all right?” The two share a small glance before bowing their heads respectfully. In the back of his mind he finds himself wishing Nicky was still half as easy to deal with anymore. “If you don’t do what I say, you’re gonna end up like the guys we tried to hire for the Mayan world.” He points in the direction of the Hall of Miniatures, knowing that despite it not being visible they were all picturing the interactive holographic display outside the diorama he’d painstakingly crafted. “Fired. Replaced. Do you want that to happen?”

The morose chime of “No.” echos and he realizes the small crowd of other Romans and cowboys are looking just as chastised as to he’s actually directing his question to. “That’d be sad.” The blonde says in a small soft voice.

“Cause you want to keep your jobs. But if McPhee finds out you’ve been taking swings and causing scenes he won’t care. Now I’m not going to report you this time, I’m letting you guys have a bit of leash here. Don’t choke me with it, okay?” He gets two solemn nods back and he runs his hands together as he forces his shoulders to relax. “Now we’re about to open and McPhee’s getting on to people, so go on. You guys play nice, okay?”

He turns around in place as the two shuffle off with their groups, falling into an even step together as they do. He lets his eyes drift back over the Egyptian.

“That was...” Ahk says in a long breathy expulsion of air, as if he’d been holding his breath. He definitely looks winded despite his lack of action and for a split second Larry is worried for the man’s health but then Ahk steps forward with enthusiasm, a smile full of white teeth and the slightest flush warming his face as he murmurs, “Amazing.”  

He fights the urge to rub his neck at the compliment, suddenly at a loss of what he should do with hands he shuffles close enough to knock his elbow against Ahk’s.

“Can I walk you to your exhibit?” He asks, settling for sticking his thumbs in his pockets and breathing evenly as he waits for the reply. Ahkmenrah is still looking at him with those wide eyes, bright with, wonder? Something else? The expression makes him shiver and Ahk’s smile widens.  

“Yes. Let’s.” Without warning Ahk snakes his arm under Larry’s, hooking them together as he starts to walk. Larry stumbles into pace beside him and can’t help but smile at the happiness radiating from Ahk, obvious in the slight bounce of his steps.

“Maybe now Jed and Oct might find a more... productive way to interpret all that tension between them.” Ahk ponders aloud, letting his arm slide down Larry’s to stealthily settle their hands together.

“Who?” Larry asks, finding his attention divided between the way their fingers are suddenly laced together and Ahk’s warm voice. Ahk’s palm is soft and cool against his own in the most welcomingly distracting way.

“Those men,” Ahk pauses in his step, turning to Larry as he elaborates, “Jedediah and Octavius. The actors hired to play the lead parts for the exhibits inside the Hall Of Miniatures.” His smile turns amused as Larry mutters an “Oh. Oh, right. Yeah.” under his breath, not making a move to back away from the new contact **.**

The night runs smoothe, only minor difficulties to note. Even the closing down goes fast and easy, even with Ahk slipping next to Larry’s side halfway through his routine he manages to get everything properly put up and shut down despite the distraction of Ahk’s hands becoming a familiar touch on his back and arms as they leaned over different control panels together.

The way Ahk kept stifling yawns and taking rather long blinks might of played a factor in motivating Larry to act perfunctory, an urge to tuck Ahk into bed with the cool side of a pillow and make sure he caught up on his rest pulsing through him. The nurturing thoughts thankfully overwhelmed the  niggling thoughts in the back of his mind involving what else he’d like to do involving Ahk and a bed, helping him keep his composure and decency through the constant feather light touches of Ahk’s hovering.

It was easy to walk Ahk outside and offer to wait as his cab came to get him, it was easier still to accept the offer of sharing the ride when they realized they were going the same way. When the cab they take pulls up at the corner by his apartment building Larry raises a hand to wake the man with a light shake, but instead finds himself running his fingers over the dark hair. The action still works to lure Ahk from his light doze, the man lifting his head from it’s spot against Larry’s shoulder and rubbing at bleary eyes as Larry slips the proper amount of cash from his wallet to the driver and opens the door.

Swinging a leg out from his seat Larry feels a hand fall on his arm and turns back to see Ahk eyeing him in confusion for a pause before his blinks come faster as his situational awareness comes back to him as he seems to realize where he is. His hand falls limp from Larry’s arm, letting it go for a tired attempt to digging in his pockets for his wallet.

“Don’t worry, I got it covered already.” Larry says, voice soft and low, rubbing Ahks arm as he pushes it away from it’s search and helps pull him from the cab.

Ahk stretches in an obvious attempt to help waken himself up, Larry tries to ignore the stretch of skin the action reveals above Ahk’s belt and only succeeds on instead focusing on the guttural moans that erupt from the lithe man’s mouth. Ahk’s lips look filthy wet in the moonlight, his chin pointed up as he yawns. Larry swallows. Hard.

“You want me to walk you to your apartment?” He blurts, instantly regretting the odd way his voice fluctuates over the words. He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a come on or an attempt to score a late night invite, or a midnight cap.

Pausing mid stretch Ahk keeps his head tilted up, long expanse of throat exposed, looking vulnerable and alluring and making Larry’s mouth go dry. Quickly averting his line of sight back towards the the man’s face he meets the attention of half lidded eyes. A flash of something crosse Ahk’s expression before an eyebrow is raised in insinuation, an amused curl of those moist lips making Larry simultaneously want to retract the question as nothing and expand on it to see if it might lead somewhere. He settles on wiping a hand down his face and clearing his throat before taking a cautious step closer.

“I wasn’t trying to. I’m not. I just wanted to make sure you made it all the way home safely.” He stumbles over his words, arms flailing awkwardly at his sides, and he knows his face is pinched from the desperate sincerity he’s trying to convey.

Ahk’s eyes fall closed, a soft smile gracing those wet lips before he peeks through his lashes at him. “Sure. But I’ll probably be fine, my apartments just there.” He says, gesturing over his shoulder.

Larry doesn’t have to look up to know which one he’s talking about, and suddenly he feels stupid for even thinking Ahk might live in one of the buildings a few blocks over. They’re at the same curb where they’d first met, it only made sense they’d have come from the same building.

He takes a steadying breath, nods. He turns towards the apartments, takes a step, then finds himself doubling back, an arm outstretched in offering. The smile he’s given as Ahk slips a welcome palm into his proffered hand is bright and makes his skin feel hot against the warm night air.

He lets Ahk lead him in a comfortable silence, following him through the doors and across the main floor, reaching familiar elevators and slipping in. Ahk is staring straight ahead at the closing doors as he pushes the button to his floor, wearing a contagious happy little grin that immediately affects Larry.

He barely feels the elevator move, almost doesn’t register the doors opening again. The surrealness of it all rivals with Ahk’s very presence pressed against his side as being the dominant distraction. He’s still overwhelmed by the entire situation, the turn of events happening fast and in his favor in a way he’s not accustomed to, when they turn the corner into a hall that he honestly wasn’t expecting to see.

If the old ficus plant shoved into the corner, dusty with cobwebs that everyone pretended not to notice, wasn’t familiar enough to catch his attention then the numbers gracing the doors surely did the job. At the end of the hall he stumbles of his feat. Blinking slowly he stares for a second at the familiar number of his apartment door, trying to process how he got there and why.

A tug on his hand has him tearing his eyes away. Ahk pulls him forward a bit farther until he’s at the adjacent apartment door and suddenly everything starts to fall into place. Letting go of his hand in favor of rooting through his pockets for his key Ahk glances over his shoulder at him and laughs. Larry glances between doors, still processing the new information as the sound of Ahk’s gentle amusement washes over him, hitting a familiar note in his memory. He’s surprisingly not as shocked at the revelation then he could of been.

“Sorry, but your face.” Ahk says through lingering giggles. The door swings open and he leans against the frame, covering his wide grin with slender fingers.

“You live here?” Larry finds himself asking despite all the obvious, giving a half hearted point at the open apartment. Gratefully his voice doesn’t crack, though he clears his throat anyway as Ahk nods.

“Yeah. I haven’t been here for too long actually.” Ahk’s eyes flicker to Larry’s door and back, “You’re my neighbor.” His voice is softer, but there’s no question in the statement and Larry suspects the information isn’t brand new to him.

“Yeah.” Larry echos. The hall quiets around the word, silence stretching out in the warm air. Ahk Hums.

“Then hopefully we’ll see each other around more often?” Ahk asks, already sliding across the threshold of his doorway and pulling at the door.

Larry nods and can barely find the voice to mutter another earnest “Yeah.” before Ahk closes the door, the twist of the man’s lips upward before it shut the only inclination that he was heard.

He gives himself credit that he only lingers in the hall between the doors for a minute before dragging himself away. He feels like a walking cliche, not for the first time since developing a crush on the young Egyptian, as he practically floats into his apartment and goes through the motions of his nightly routine. Stripped down and laying in bed with the latest copy of Inventors Digest, trying and failing to peruse the articles, he lets his mind wander as he winds down from the night. He thinks of work, of Ahkmenrah, of how they don’t have to work tomorrow. Entertaining the thought of inviting the man on an actual date, like Erica had thoroughly suggested over the phone, he gives up trying to focus on anything other than then the thought of Ahk sleeping on the other side of the walls.

Despite the heat and many wondrous thoughts about the young man that had managed to somehow attain his affection and intrigue twice over simultaneously without Larry realizing, he falls asleep rather fast.

****  
  
  


 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help but include Jed and Oct, and a subtle hint at insinuated Jedtavius, despite them being minor characters in the story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where the Night Program really is just comprised of Larry's tech inventions, interactive displays, and actors.
> 
> Larry Daley has finally managed to work his way up from being more than a night guard at the AMNH. His proposition of setting up an interactive Night Program has finally been accepted and he's excited to put his inventions to work, but as Head of the Night Program he also has to help keep the actors organized and make sure everything runs smoothly.
> 
> Between the awful heat still plaguing NY, working to keep his boss happy, the actors from killing each other, and discovering he has an unfairly attractive co worker with an equally attractive personality to match, Larry's pretty sure he's got his hands full. This though doesn't stop him from also developing a crush on the mysterious voice worthy of belonging to a siren that has suddenly decided to start turning his habit of singing in the shower into instead singing duets in the shower by joining in from the neighboring bathroom adjacent to his own.

  

Chapter 4

 

 

-

  

 

The morning, or early evening rather, goes from unusually pleasant at the optimistic memories of the night before to exceptionally irritating.

First he wakes up drenched in sweat with an unmistakably aching tent in his boxers, then he finds himself too overheated to even indulge in dealing with the matter. Next he manages to trip over his sheets and fall graceless to the floor with a resounding crash. The coolness of the flooring is nice on his heated skin, yet the sudden stinging pain of an impromptu belly flop against the unforgiving surface is much less than enjoyable, quickly aiding in wilting his previous issue.

A stop through the bathroom for his morning ablutions quickly alerts him to the fact that he has no running water. After turning the shower knobs he’s only rewarded with a short spurt of water that quickly dribbles down to a nonexistent flow. Smacking helplessly against the spout and twisting desperately at the handles he scrambles to the sink and gets much similar results. Letting out a mutter of curses he locates his phone and accesses his online accounts while simultaneously digging throuhg physical copies of his past bill receipts. Sure enough, as he expected his recent payment has been cleared, his account paid up.

With a frown he lets out a frustrated sound, flipping through the mess of papers on his desk until he finds the number for the landlord. Dialing it he wipes a stray drop of sweat from his brow. He's greeted with an automated voicemail. Making an attempt to leave a professional message he tries to keep the irritability currently crawling through his veins out of his voice as he tries to figure out what is going on.

Pacing the apartment a few more times, periodically twisting the different knobs and hoping a miracle will come from his faucets in the form of cool water, his frown deepens when each time never fails to produce nothing. Once again the ringing between his shoulder and ear transitions into an automated message and he bangs his fists against the tub in frustration. He leaves a message, yet again, and practically throws his phone onto the pile of dirty towels overflowing from his hamper.

Running irritated fingers through his sweaty hair he scrubs at his scalp with his nails, and tries to think clearly. He can survive without a morning shower, surely. He’d just have to find a different way to help himself feel cool, maybe stick his head in the freezer. He has ice left, maybe he could melt enough to at least wipe himself down. Yeah, he could make this work until he could get it fixed.

His reflection above the bathroom sink mocks the thought, his hair sticking up in damp weak curls from all the moisture, the bathroom lights magnifying every stray bead of sweat clinging to his chest and making his skin itch. He plants his face into his palms and contemplates screaming into the warm skin. His phone goes off just as he’s taking a deep breath in preparation and he startles, letting the air woosh from his lungs like a deflating balloon and looks over to the sound. Hopeful, he practically pounces on the hamper to grab at his phone, about crying when he see’s the number for maintenance lit up on the screen.

A five minute conversation full of excuses and discussions about the definition of what constitutes as a priority and Larry is left thanking the man through gritted teeth. The call ends with his phone still pressed against his ear. He pulls the phone away from his face noticing with a grimace the sweaty residue left imprinted on the screen. He grabs at a towel from the hamper wiping off his phone before setting it down on the ledge of the sink and wiping the fresh layer of sweat from his face and neck.

A full twenty four hours before he can bathe. A full day before he can feel clean in his skin and not wish to peel it off in disparity to get away from the heat. He really wishes he’d found the time to at least take a rinse before bed the night before.

With the additional information that maintenance affirmed it was only his pipes that weren’t working, and that they couldn’t fix the issue until the following day, he was thoroughly grateful for the night program only being open four days a week. The night off couldn't have come at a more needed time.

The faint sound of water against tiled walls starts up. He blinks, an obscure thought clicking into place. With an open palm he pushes against his crotch, the temperature of the room helping him smother and contain the lust that licks involuntarily through him as he stares at the wall. Images of the lithe body he's finally able to match with the mysterious voice soaping up only feet away literally make his heart skip a beat, knocking his breath away as his chest flutters back into rhythm. Gasping after the lost breath he tears his eyes away, the realization slowly settling over him in a way he'd been too tired to appreciate the night before.

He presses a firmer hand against himself. Biting his lip and straining his ears to pick up the ever so faint humming, that he's not sure isn't just his imagination, and tries at an attempt to dry his body of moisture before locating basketball shorts and a muscle top to throw on. He thinks wryly to himself as he attempts to make himself look presentable, that at least the outfit might give the allusion he’d been working out, making the excess sweat a bit more expected.

He takes his time readying himself, and waits until the sound of his neighbor, of Ahkmenrah, showering ceases and then another couple minutes more after that. He barely takes the time to grab his keys and lock the door behind him as he slips from his apartment into the slightly cooler hall. Before he can give himself the time to talk himself out of it he’s rapping his knuckles against the wood of Ahk’s door.

In a surprising instant the door cracks open, the security chain stretched taught as Ahk peers through the space before unlatching it.

“Ah, hello Larry.” He opens the door to it’s full extent, standing without hesitation in the doorway clad only in a slinky silk robe that looked straight from Victoria’s Secret, it’s short sleeves and even shorter length far from modest. Larry’s greeting chokes him as he’s suddenly confronted with the sight of so much skin. Coughing into his fist he clears his throat before trying again.

“Hey, Ahk. I’m sorry to intrude on you like this, but uh,” He runs at the back of his neck, feeling much less confident than he had seconds before, “My waters not working at my place and I could really use a shower.”

Ahk continues to smile at him, shifting his weight in a way that makes the silk robe slip down one shoulder and Larry clenches his fists, resisting the urge to fix it in order to keep from losing his ability to speak.

“You’re more than welcome to use mine, Larry,” Ahk offers, voice pitched an octave lower than usual, eyes raking over Larry’s arms and torso in a way that makes him feel even more exposed than Ahk, “I know for a fact that it’s in perfect working order.”

“Thanks, uh, yeah, that would be great actually.” He says, unable to help from ogling the deep exposed V of Ahk’s chest in his peripherals as he stubbornly tries to keep eye contact.

Ahk nods and steps partially aside, allowing enough space for Larry to enter. Tipping his head to the side, incidentally revealing a tempting stretch of neck and collarbone, he gives a small nod to encourage Larry to come in.

Slipping past him, trying to avoid the urge to brush up against the exposed flesh and let his eyes roam further, Larry flicks his eyes around the apartment instead, cataloging the layout, a mirror reflection of his own place. Warm colors decorate the living area, giving a cozy feel despite the slight modern edge of the nicer, newer, pricey looking collection of furniture. He tries to make his shoulders relax, and not feel too self conscious of the mess he feels and tries not to look as suddenly lost standing in the middle of the room with Ahk’s eyes flitting over him. The heat of their roaming attention leaves no room for him to think Ahk finds his presence less than welcome or his appearance less than acceptable. Trying not to be awkward Larry smiles as Ahk shuts the door softly behind himself, watching him slide gracefully closer with light steps.

“I like your place.” He manages to say without a stutter, the close proximity of Ahk’s smooth chest and the brightness in his eyes luring unbidden thoughts to the forefront of his mind. His hand twitches with a need to touch himself, to try and keep the tent out of his loose shorts. The poorly hidden leer within Ahk’s smile as he accepts the compliment makes his pulse race and he could really use a shower.

“Shower,” He spits out rather brashly, flushing as one of Ahk’s perfect eyebrows arch at him. Clearing his throat he waves towards the short hall, “I mean, so, uh, uhm… I could really use that shower?”

“Right, though I’m not sure how much hot water I left.” Ahk offers with a sly smirk. He gestures expansively, slowly, down his front, as if Larry needed the visual reminder of Ahk having just stepped out of the shower moments before.

He can't help but let his eyes travel, following Ahk's movement. He lets himself take in the exposure of compact muscles, the way the silk hangs barely tied together at his hips and comes up to rest high on his thighs, the long creamy legs that start as a pale bronze and darken on the way down.

He licks his lips before he can think not to.  _I’ll probably only need cold water at this point_ , he thinks.

“Ah, that’s okay.” If his voice cracks on the reply neither of them mention it, though Ahk’s smile widens before he nods, his expression suspiciously satisfied. Wordlessly Ahk leads them to where Larry knew the bathroom would be.

The bathroom is decorated in creamy whites and delicate gold details, the orderly cleanliness making the area look elegant and spacious like it belonged to an upscale suite.

Ahk flicks on the light and Larry slips in. "Thanks," He throws over his shoulder expecting Ahk to shut the door for him, the surprise of Ahk following him in causes him to falter mid step.

Leaning against the sink he turns to him, watching as Ahk walks over to a rack of finely folded plush towels beside the shower, stretching a bit to pluck the top one from the stack. Ahk's movements are languid, the back of his robe rising, dangerously close to exposing the swell of his ass.

Biting his lip Larry tears his gaze away from the provocative display right as Ahk turns, walking closer than necessary to hand it over. Accepting it he finds the towel as soft as it looks, pressing his fingers into it tightly in order to resist seeing if Ahk's skin was also as satisfying to touch as it appeared.

He swallows, tries to keep his arousal in check when Ahk's gaze at his wet lips lingers even as he flashes one last smile before turning to leave, the door shutting silently behind him.

It’s not until he’s stripping that he gets a small chill and realizes the temperature is actually quite nice. Taking a moment he takes it in, noting how comfortable he actually feels, if not a tad chilly as the cooler air attacks his lingering sweat. Grumbling under his breath about how apparently he’ll have to have maintenance check his central air tomorrow as well as the water, he contemplates just giving up and moving again. Only the thought sits sour in his belly as he thinks of moving away from Ahk after just discovering him, along with Nicky’s disappointment and Erica’s frustration. Sighing he finishes stepping out of clothes and moves to turns on the shower.

There’s a soft rap against wood and Larry glances between his own nude form and the unlocked door.

“Larry?” Ahk asks.

“Yeah?” He asks in return, his gaze moving swiftly in an attempt to locate where he’d placed his towel.

“I have some clean spare clothes here, if you want to borrow them. They should fit, they’re what I wear to paint in.

 _You paint?_ He want’s to ask. Instead he says, “Yeah, okay. Thanks,” and slips into the tub to peer out from behind the shower curtain.

“I’ll leave them beside the sink?” Ahk asks, “If that’s okay?” Larry can hear the sound of the door knob twist hesitantly, presumably under Ahk’s grip.

It doesn’t turn though and Larry realizes Ahk’s not going to assume Larry’s acquiescence.

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine. Go ahead.” He finally says, and the door opens enough for Ahk to slip partially in and place a couple folded items on the counter. Larry’s not sure if he’s relieved or annoyed that he’s changed out of the provocative robe and into a simple cotton shirt and pajama pants.

Ahk pauses as he’s slipping back out and turns to look at Larry, smirking knowingly at the slight silhouette Larry’s body makes through the curtain. Lowering his chin, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, he looks down shyly before lifting his eyes to peer at Larry through them.

"I was thinking perhaps if you didn't have plans for today you could join me for some bad tv."

If Larry had made plans before that look he would now be canceling them after it. The thought only scares him a little bit.

"Or some good tv." Ahk amends at Larry's silence, shrugging with his one visible shoulder. A playful pout is bitten gently between teeth in his uncertainty as he waits for an answer.

"Sure, sounds fun." He breathes, pitching his voice to carry across the room.

He can't help but smile at the excitement that glows from Ahk, nodding happily to himself as he backs away to give Larry his privacy. The door clicks shut and Larry starts the shower, only briefly envisioning Ahk naked and dancing around singing with soap sliding down his back and across his shoulder blades before he secures the shower curtain closed behind him and lets the water pressure push the thoughts away.

The cooler than warm water is refreshing, the overwhelming desire to scrub himself clean winning out over his libido. He attempts to keep the shower short, the goal in mind to not linger creepily over the assortment of smells that ensconce him as he washes. Looking forward to the prospect of quality time with his crush and potential cuddling is just a bonus incentive to not linger longer than needed.

In the middle of lathering his hair, heavily inhaling the sweet brisk smell of artificial ocean and floral breezes that is quickly overtaking the even sweeter aroma of brown sugar and vanilla from the body wash he’d previously used, he hears singing.

“La da di, la da da, la da daaa. Singing in the shower”

****

The sound is distant, muffled through the stream of water over his ears as he moves to wash the tropical scented conditioner from his hair. He almost believes he’s imagining it but as he finishes up with a final rinse he catches a couple lines he can’t make out. Ahkmenrah is very obviously singing to himself as he putters around the apartment.

****

“Since you came you know what I've discovered. Baby I don't need me another. No, no all I know. Only you got me feeling so. And you know that I got to have you. And I don't plan to let you go.”

****

The words fluctuate in clarity as Larry listens. He’s pretty sure he’s heard the song before, likely on the radio Tilly added to the break room.

“Think of you when I'm going to bed. When I wake up think of you again. You are my homie, lover and friend.”

****

Larry steps out of the tub as he listens, the air feeling cool on his flushed face, helping him combat the blush rising up his neck.

****

“Exactly whyyyy.”

****

He locates the towel under the pile of his discarded clothes.

****

“You light me up inside, like the 4th of July. Whenever you're around I always seem to smile. And people ask me how. Well you're the reason why.”

****

He speed dries himself with the towel, not caring if drops of water still cling to his hair and neck as he reaches for the clothes Ahk left him. They’re large, definitely bigger than what Ahk normally wears and the shirt and thin sweat pants hang loose on him as he pulls them on. They’re also covered in dried splotches of paint, hues of blues, oranges, and yellows predominantly staining the fabric.

****

“I'm dancing in the mirror.”

****

The voice is close, walking towards him if Larry were to guess.

****

“And singing in the shower”

****

Larry takes a breath and opens the door.

****

“La da di, la da da, la da daaa. Singing in the shower.” He sings, stepping out into the hall in the over sized paint decorated clothes and causing Ahk to startle, stopping short in front of him.

Ahk stumbles over the lyric but his expression turns amused, his smile almost hopeful when he realizes Larry had heard him singing and decided to join in.

****

“La da di, la da da, la da daa. Singing in the shower.” They harmonize and Larry’s a little off key, but the joke shared between them over the lyrics, the flirtatiousness, is enough.

****

Larry doesn’t really know the next verse, but it doesn’t matter because Ahk is suddenly giggling, his head adorably tilting to the side as he smiles shyly, racking his eyes up and down Larry’s body and over his face, arms wrapping around himself as he blushes and it’s the cutest thing Larry’s seen.

****

 

-end-

 ********  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was it folks, though I maybe might add a bonus chapter continuation to this story that might involve bubble baths and aided bathing along with actually resolving that UST.


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